Moloch: Untouchable
by mamfa
Summary: Seventh in the Moloch series, following 'Release'. Toby's lifeline to sanity is gone, and with her goes Toby's will to keep going. He relocates to the Massachusetts Academy to piece his life back together - and ends up unmasking a treasure that has been s


Zilch continuity. Bite me.  
This is the sixth installment in the 'Moloch' series. Do I even have to explain the title anymore? Sheesh. Oh, and   
consider the obligatory threats delivered. Toby's mine, yadda, yadda, yadda. I just thought out a fantastic way to kill   
someone – you chop off their feet, then lower the stumps into hydrochloric acid. Mmm, fizzy.  
Yes, I'm on medication. Get stuffed, the lot of you.  
DID YOU KNOW!  
They're Marvel's!  
GASP!  
They're not mine!  
GAPE!  
No, really!  
AMAZING!  
Isn't it just, though?  
YEAH!  
Enough of that. I don't have any money, so the most you'll squeeze outta me, should you be thick enough to sue,   
would be a half-starved moggy and a bitchy old laptop with dyslexia. Yes, you heard me. It cna't splle.   
Archive wiv permission. Yes, wiv. I dance merrily in Flames, sacrificing goats to Satan my dark lord and master. No,   
not really. Feedback is an expression of love. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many-splendoured thing. Love lifts us   
up where we belong. All you need is love.  
I think I've seen Moulin Rouge too many times…  
  
Moloch: Untouchable  
Mamfa.  
  
You're what happens when models marry  
You're the kind of angel they produce  
A pale creature more sad than savage  
Heaven knows you're fireproof  
  
In an apartment with a dirty mirror  
You can still kiss your face goodbye  
  
I want you  
I need you  
I want your skin upon my skin  
I want you  
Possess you   
I wanna know where the hell you've been  
  
You're what happens when models marry  
You're the sort of victim they let loose  
Sitting on your own, it's tragic  
But no-one knows the awful truth  
  
Your scheming little junkie friends all tell you  
That kind of beauty is a crime  
  
I want you  
I need you  
I want you confused and unable to start  
I want to  
Possess you  
I wanna know what the hell you are  
  
I want you  
I need you  
I want your happiness and stars  
I want to  
Oppress you  
I wanna know who the fuck you think you are  
Paul McDermott/Paul Mac, "Happiness"  
  
  
Nineteen year old Toby Creed was absolutely distraught.  
Naturally, he wouldn't even admit it to himself, but he was. So instead of sitting down and having a good cry, like   
any normal person, he was drinking in enormous qualities, hoping to sit his healing factor back on its ass for a good   
long time. Because young Toby Creed wasn't exactly like any other normal person. He was a mutant, an extremely   
dangerous mutant, and the newest X-Man to boot. Irrationally he wished that he still possessed the berserker rage.   
Then he'd be able to go out and smash a tree to pieces, or get into a brawl. That'd make him feel better. As it was,   
the occupants of the small pub in Salem Centre just peered mistrustfully at the big young man, who sat woefully   
consuming the entire spirits section single-handedly.  
The reason for his dejection was a normal one, however. His girlfriend, Gabrielle Marshall, had left him. They had   
been together since he had been thirteen, and she twelve. But she had left him. And he didn't know exactly how to   
cope, so he was drowning his sorrows. Thankfully, he'd looked around twenty-five ever since he was fifteen, so   
getting in and drinking was no problem. The dilemma came with getting drunk. He couldn't. It was physiologically   
impossible for him. His healing factor was twice as efficient as Wolverine's. No matter how much brain-killer he   
poured down his throat, it simply didn't work. Not very reassuring.  
Gabby had left him. He sighed and gestured for another. The barman, who was watching with some sort of morbid   
curiosity, filled it again. Around the pub, bets were being placed on how long the big stranger would last.   
None of them would win.  
"Something the matter, mate?" asked the barman sympathetically.  
Toby peered dejectedly up at him. "Yeah. Another."  
The barman filled his glass, and watched in fascination as he put it away. "What kind o' matter?"  
"My girlfriend left me."  
"Ah. Woman trouble."  
"Another."  
"Don't worry mate, you'll get another. Woman, that is. They're all over the place," the barman soothed as he filled   
the glass again.   
"Not the one I want, though." Toby wiped a gloved hand roughly across his eyes. "Why'd she have to go and leave   
me?"  
"Were you good to her?"  
"Yes!"  
"Sorry, mate, it's just that we get all types in here. You cheat on her maybe?"  
"No. I loved her." Toby stared moodily at his glass, before he gestured for a refill.   
"She have a wandering eye?"  
Toby scowled. "We were together for six years."  
"Maybe you spent too much time on work, then. They hate to be ignored, women do."  
Toby closed his eyes. Yes, that was it. She hated his being part of the X-Men, hated it with a passion. She told him,   
every time he went out on a mission, that she might not be there when he came back. They'd had some rousing fights   
over it – he knew she was worried for him. He put his life on the line with the X-Men on a regular basis. It had worn   
her down, all that worrying and fretting while he was away, until he had come back yesterday and found her gone.   
She wasn't at the X-Mansion, and she wasn't at home. His old school-friends didn't know where she was either.   
He'd caught fading glimpses of her scent around the airport, but no inkling of where she'd flown to. Leaving him   
behind in a ratty old pub trying futilely to drink himself into unconsciousness.   
"You okay mate?"  
"I… yeah. No, I tell a lie, I'm not. I think I just need a walk." Toby stood, and threw back the last shot, before   
throwing a wad of bills onto the table. "Keep the change. You've more than earned it. Do this hole up, or   
something."  
The barman took the bills with shaking hands. "Thanks heaps, mate," he said in awe.  
Toby snorted as he stalked out the door, aware of grumbling punters who hadn't got their money's worth from their   
bets. That barman was a true New York salesman, despite his false Australian accent. Always eager to grab the   
money. Well, he shouldn't be so hard on him. Still, right at that point, Toby felt like turning on the entire world.  
He walked alone through the crisp, starry night. It was cold, but he barely felt it, under his light, uniform jacket and   
old jeans. Thugs peered at him from behind street corners, blanched, and scurried away. It was a near suicidal move,   
attacking a seven-foot, clawed mutant. Especially one who was well known as the son of the most voracious killer   
the world over.  
It had started about a month ago, after a catastrophic mission into a slave ring that he had salvaged and succeeded in.   
The media went nuts. Who was the new X-Man? Most thought he was his father, but after careful examinations of   
photos of each, it was concluded that they were relations. Toby snorted again. No, really? Then some genius who had   
been released in that mission went straight to the press and 'told all.' The mutant known as Tiger, he had said, was   
the estranged son of Victor Creed. Sabretooth. The media went into an absolute feeding frenzy. Stories proclaiming   
him as a tragic hero blasted across every newspaper and magazine the nation over. 'Son Atoning for Father's Sins,'   
'Deadly Legacy,' 'Family Creed.' Toby had a half-mind to go to the press himself and tell them the true story. He   
wasn't some noble-minded hero: he was a loser whose girlfriend had left him. He knew, however, that the first-hand   
information would cause another burst of insanity, especially in women's magazines, who already posted him as   
some sort of super-virile sexual animal. Bizarre.   
It had also been the media attention that snapped Gabby. She'd hated it even more than he had. She said she couldn't   
deal with his face staring back from everything she bought to read, and although she knew it wasn't his fault, who   
else did she have to take it out on?  
He found himself staring blankly out onto the lawn of the mansion. He must have been walking for a while. With a   
sigh, he made to walk inside, but a familiar scent wafting from the dense greenery to the east stopped him. A wry   
half-smile crossed his lips, baring a centimeter of savage overlocking fang. "Hey Dad."  
"How's things, boy?"  
Toby sat down on the grass, while a large shadow detached itself to move towards him. "Bad, I suppose. Remember   
Gabrielle, my girlfriend?"  
Victor Creed sat down beside him. In appearances, the two were very similar. Blond hair, large, rangy frames and   
distinctive jawlines, with inch-long claws, slightly pointed ears and vicious fangs. Toby's hair was longer, his   
sideburns shaved, and his body hair not nearly so thick. His eyes, unlike his father's alien amber orbs, were a vivid,   
iridescent blue. And Toby was the next step in the evolution of the Creed bloodline: his empathetic, choral voices   
were able to manipulate any power, up to and including actuality. That was very difficult, however, so Toby didn't   
see much call for it.  
"I remember yer frail. Feisty, she was."  
"She left me."  
There was a pause.  
"Whatcha gonna do?"  
"I dunno. I know I have to get away from Salem Center for a bit, though – I can't stand it. Everywhere I look, I'm   
seeing things that remind me of her."  
"I know exactly how ya feel." Sabretooth leaned back, and regarded his son with a compassion no-one would have   
believed he possessed. "You know I was in love with Raven, before she left me. An' I was in love with Birdy too,   
before she died."  
"Then you know how hard it is to stay in the one place," said Toby bitterly. "I can't seem to stop moving."  
"Yeah, I know."  
The two sat in silence for a moment. It was on that mission a month before that Toby had finally accepted his father.   
Toby stood for everything his father was not – yet it didn't mean that he had to dislike him. In fact, Toby had hated   
Victor Creed with a boiling passion until that mission. Through his own example, Creed had dissolved Toby's   
hatred, taking with it the berserker rage. And Toby had acknowledged that he loved his father, despite all the evils   
Creed had left him with.  
Theirs was a strange relationship, to say the least.  
"You wanna take it out, don't ya."  
Toby didn't answer, but he nodded his shaggy blond head slowly.   
"It's like a scream inside ya, almost like the killin' fury, but sad instead. So sad. Makes you wanna punish the world,   
fer makin' you so sad."  
Toby let out an explosive breath. "Yeah."  
Creed squinted at his son, marveling anew that the boy had forgiven him. Creed had (most likely) raped whoever had   
been the boy's mother, and she had left him in an orphanage, where he had been almost killed.   
It had been good training.  
"You need a punching bag?" he offered with a slight grin. Toby turned to give his father an unreadable look.  
"You mean that?"  
Creed couldn't forget that the last time he tangled with his son, he'd almost been killed too. "Wouldn't have said it if   
I didn't," was all he said.  
"Then yes, please."  
"All right then. Fists only. An' so long as you heal me after."  
"Goes without saying." Without warning, Victor lunged over the grass to tackle Toby in a rolling head-lock, before   
he was kicked away. Grimly, they circled each other, before Toby threw a right cross to his chin that connected   
soundly. As Creed span, Toby drove an eight-punch combination into his stomach, finishing with satisfaction by   
clipping him on the nose. Dad was right, he thought, it does make me feel better. Victor shook his head and focused,   
then laughed as he picked Toby up easily and threw him against a tree, punching him solidly in the mouth as he did   
so. Toby kicked out and connected with Creed's stomach, winding him, and span, bringing the edge of his booted   
foot around to smash the side of his jaw. Victor grunted as his mouth filled with blood, but stubbornly resisted the   
urge to go animal, bringing his elbow into the flesh under Toby's ribs. He gasped, and then grabbed Creed's arm and   
used his momentum to flip him onto his back. His frustration mounting, he straddled his father, and began to pound   
on him furiously, hitting him in the face and torso over and over, until his rage petered out into torturous sobbing.  
"Oh Gabby…" he whispered.  
Creed peered sympathetically at him through one closed and blacked eye. "Feelin' better, boy?"  
"Oh, shit," gasped Toby. "I really tore you up, didn't I?"  
"Yeah, well, you've done it before. An' I'm a fast healer, though I wouldn't say no to a spot o' help here."  
Toby quickly raised his voices and boosted his father's healing factor. The bruises and abrasions and swelling   
immediately receded and died down, the vivid colours fading. "Ah, that's better," sighed Creed, grunting a little as a   
broken rib popped back into place.  
Toby flopped down beside him again. "Thanks."  
"No charge."  
"I gotta get away from here."  
"I got a shack up in Canada."  
"No thanks. I know what that entails. Half the locals 'll be out for my blood."  
"True. Harsh but true. You could go to that other school fer a bit – the one Logan's little Asian sidekick went to."  
Toby blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."  
"Obviously. You were too busy tryin' to get past yer healin' factor."  
"Okay, okay, don't rub it in." Toby rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "It's got possibilities," he hedged. "I know of   
people there, and Jubilee might want to come with me maybe. I could probably teach hand-to-hand, or something."  
"English Lit?" suggested Creed, a chuckle in his voice.  
Toby snorted. English had been his favourite subject at school. "No, thanks again. Can you imagine me trying to   
teach Monet St. Croix or Paige Guthrie English? I'm no Wallace. Plus, they're two years older than me."  
"Give ya somethin' ta think about, though."  
"Yeah." Toby scratched at the back of his neck ruefully. "I think I'll ask the professor tommorrow. And y'know,   
thanks."  
"Not a prob. I'll see ya, kid."  
"You too, Dad."  
Creed put one viciously clawed hand briefly on his son's flat-muscled shoulder, before sinking back into the   
shadows of the woods. Toby sighed again, gazing up at the stars, before moving slowly towards the mansion and the   
dubious escape of sleep.  
  
  
Two days later, Toby was standing outside the Massachusetts Academy, hefting his and Jubilee's bags out of the   
back of the cab. The driver had offered to help, but stopped when he saw that Toby was more than capable of   
handling them himself. They were a little heavy for someone without his specialized capabilities.  
He stared vacantly at the grounds. Jubilee sped ahead of him, to pound furiously at the door. "C'mon, Tobster," she   
called back at him, and he gave her a grin which didn't meet his eyes as he picked up his pace. She looked around   
with excited satisfaction, and rubbed her hands together. "I didn't realize I missed this place so much," she confided   
in a whisper.  
"As long as you don't start with the X-Men stories, huh?" he ribbed her.  
She gave him a good-natured scowl, before the door was opened. A lanky young man with grayish skin and black   
hair peered out at them, recognized Jubilee, and shouted, "Jubecita!"  
"Skin, mi amigo!" she yelled back, and the two fell into each other's arms, chatting and whooping in their   
exuberance. Toby smiled, before his hand was yanked by Jubilee, and he found himself being introduced to the   
young man known as 'Skin.'  
"Toberoonie, this is Angelo Espinosa, also known as Skin. Ang', this is Toby Creed. Yeah, the Toby Creed, also   
known as Tiger. Watch the claws."  
"Hi," said Angelo a little warily, but shaking Toby's hand carefully anyway. Toby watched his hand being   
strenuously made friends with, and grinned back at Angelo.   
"Hey. Any idea where I can put these down? I think Jubes packed Hank in there somewhere – they're a bit heavy."  
Angelo chuckled while Jubilee scowled again. "That's our chica. C'mon in."  
"Everyone else home?" asked Jubilee, once Toby had dumped the bags from his back into the entrance hall.  
"Yeah. You should see how much Artie an' Leech have grown! Monet, Paige an' Mr. Cassidy are in the rec room.   
Siryn staying over to visit her dad at the moment, and so she and that maniac Deadpool have been hanging around as   
well. Paige an' Jono are finally, finally, together – don't ask how, it's a long story. Frosty's in the office. I suppose   
you oughta see her first, eh?"  
"I suppose," said Jubilee, squirming a little. She still remembered the scene from when she had left the Generation X   
team. It hadn't been pretty.   
Angelo led them to an airy, beautifully furnished office, behind which sat a lovely woman with white-blond hair and   
hard blue eyes. Her head lifted as they entered, and she stood slowly, her eyes pinned on Jubilee.  
"Hello, Jubilation," she said in a voice even more composed and collected than Storm's. Toby felt his skin crawl up   
his spine.  
"Heya Frosty," she said back. Then she grinned irrepressibly and flew into the blond woman's arms. Emma Frost   
looked even more surprised than Angelo.   
"My goodness," she said faintly.  
Jubilee kissed the White Queen on the cheek, before quickly claiming the seat Emma had been sitting upon. "How ya   
been doin'?"  
"I see you haven't changed much," Emma said dryly. "We've been managing without you the last six years.   
Although, I admit, it's been a little quiet."  
"Hah!" I told you they'd miss me!" she shot at Toby, who held up his hands in submission. The White Queen's eyes   
turned on him. "Oops. Intro time, I s'pose. Frosty, this is Toby Creed, or Tiger. Y'know, the one…"  
"I remember," said Emma. "I could hardly forget, after all the press this young man has been receiving." Toby felt   
her eyes weighing him up appraisingly, and he had the distinct impression that he was found wanting. "Hello, Mr.   
Creed. I assure you, you will be made quite welcome."  
Toby doubted that.  
"Thanks," he said aloud, and had the renewed satisfaction of seeing his choral voices unsettle someone. It was almost   
worth the trouble he got when speaking to a stranger in public. "I hope we're not too much trouble…"  
"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine," she said bitingly. Then she smiled. "Angelo, would you show our guests to their   
rooms? I'm sure Jubilee is desperate to show off her companion to her friends."  
"Show off?" protested Toby. Jubilee whistled innocently, swinging one leg over the chair innocently. Then he   
remembered – Monet was supposed to be… extremely impressed with him. She's be ecstatic to find that he was so   
newly single.  
Emma chuckled, startling a strange look from both Angelo and Jubilee, who hadn't thought her capable of the sound.   
"Yes," she murmured to him, her eyes dancing. "You'll be very welcome in some circles."  
He actually felt the tips of his pointed ears going red, and unconsciously drew himself up to his full, intimidating   
height in preparation. "Sheesh," he muttered.  
Emma laughed again, before nodding to Jubilee. "Get out of my chair, Jubilee. I was working on some business   
dealings…"  
"Okay, okay, keep ya corset on," said Jubilee airily, getting up and hugging Emma again, almost spontaneously. "I   
can see you haven't changed much either."  
Emma tried, unsuccessfully, to show her pleasure at the affection, and shooed the girl out of her office.  
"Man, is she ever mellower?" said Jubilee in amazement after they had shut the door behind them. Angelo grinned.   
"Not really, chica. She's just got a soft spot for you, an' you know it. She might pretend to disapprove of you an'   
that, but she reckons you're awesome, anyone can see it."  
"I never could," Jubilee asserted, picking up one of her bags. Toby, naturally, picked up the rest. "Where are we   
sleeping?"  
Well, you'll be in your old room with Paige," he began, and Jubilee let out a whoop, "and Toby here can have the   
spare room across from me. Of course, Jono's been keeping his music an' stuff in there, so you'll need to clear it   
off."  
"Not a problem," said Toby, grinning.  
"Buenos! Then c'mon!"   
Once their things were deposited in the respective rooms, Jubilee positively flew downstairs to the rec room, where a   
veritable cacophony of squeals and shouts greeted her. Toby and Angelo sauntered down more casually, chatting.   
"So, how old are you, man?" asked Angelo, as they rounded a corner.  
"Nineteen," answered Toby. "You?"  
Angelo looked surprised. "Madre de Dios, you look like you're…"  
"I know," said Toby wryly. "It makes underage drinking a lot easier."  
Angelo laughed at that. "If I'd looked twenty-six when I was nineteen, I reckon I'd 've done the same. I'm twenty   
two, by the way."  
"Old man," teased Toby.  
"Same age as Jubecita," sniffed Angelo. "Here we are!"  
The rec room was a riot. There was a knot of bodies all hugging Jubilee furiously, talking at the tops of their lungs. A   
pair of boys around twelve years old were leaping around, and there was spilt food on the lounges. Toby leaned   
against the doorframe, and watched with a grin on his face. He could pick out Jono easily from Jubilee's   
descriptions, but had no idea of which girl was which. He laughed as the huddle overbalanced and fell onto the floor,   
still chattering, and could hear Angelo's chuckle behind him.   
"They'll be at it all night now, amigo," Angelo murmured to him.   
"I gathered," replied Toby dryly.  
At the sound of his choral voices, Jubilee looked up and let out a yell. "Toberoonie! Get your big hairy ass over   
here!"  
"As you wish," he replied, with an overstated show of meekness. She scowled at him.  
"Guys, this is Toby Creed. Tobster, this is Jono, and this is Paige – hands off, buster – and this is Monet…"  
Monet was staring openly at him, her fabled coolness nowhere to be seen.  
"… and this is Mr. Cassidy, and these two rascals are Artie an' Leech."   
Toby smiled at them all. "Hi."  
The sight of his overlocking, razor-sharp teeth unsettled them almost as much as the reverberating choral voice, but   
they rallied magnificently. Banshee smiled at him and took his hand, mindful of the claws, and shook it vigorously.  
"Welcome, lad," he said warmly. "I assure ye, we'll be right glad t' make ye at home here, an' we're grateful that ye   
could come an' teach us some new hand-to-hand."  
"No problem, sir," answered Toby, mindful of the legend who was now shaking his hand. Sean Cassidy had been   
one of the greatest espionage agents in the business, before attaining fame with the X-Men many years ago. "I   
suppose I won't really be of much help…"  
"Nay, lad. Cable tells us that you're the best close-quarters fighter he's seen in his life. An' that's high praise from   
that one, ye ken?"  
Toby was a little dumbfounded at that. "Good grief!"  
"C'mon an' meet the kids, then," Sean suggested. "This one's Paige."  
"That's right, the next leader of the X-Men, right?" Toby asked, grinning. Jubilee dug her elbow sharply into his ribs,   
but Jono and Angelo fell back in laughter, though Jono's was silent. Paige blushed.  
"Ah… I think you're being a bit generous," she said with decorum, though she was flattered at the compliment. He   
grinned at her.  
"Not according to what I hear. Even Scott isn't that determined, you know, for all that he's incredibly anal-  
retentive."  
She blushed again. "I'm just trying to do what's best, I suppose," she said with aplomb. "Jono, stop laughing, and get   
yourself over here."  
Jonothon Starsmore wiped a few tears from his eyes, and, still suppressing a telepathic chuckle,   
made his way over to his slightly embarrassed, slightly flattered girlfriend.   
"Toby Creed. I hear you're pegged to be the resident smelly English git."  
Jono raised his eyebrows at Jubilee, who looked away innocently.   
Toby grinned again. "No. I'm just making it up."  
Jono started laughing again, and slapped Toby on the back.   
Monet St. Croix looked like she'd very much like to be next, but as it turned out, it was Artie, who stumbled into   
Toby's leg. "Hello, who's this?" Toby crouched down to eye level with the young, magenta-skinned lad, who   
grinned shyly at him.   
"He be Artie," piped up Leech. Artie projected a picture of himself the same height as Toby, and he laughed.   
"Not for a few years yet, you know. How old are you both?"  
Artie projected the number twelve, just as Leech said, "Twelve."  
"You know, when I was twelve, I was even shorter than you are now?"  
Artie radiated disbelief, and projected a picture of a dwarf-sized Toby, Artie and Leech towering over him. Toby   
laughed.  
"Pretty much. I was fifteen when I really started growing. And then I didn't stop until a few months ago. So you see?   
You never know."  
Artie grinned shyly at him, and projected a picture of himself riding on Toby's shoulders. Toby grinned again, and   
picked the boy up carefully, settling him behind his head. "Now, watch you don't bump the ceiling up there, big   
guy," he instructed. "And please don't pull my ears. Jubes does that enough."  
"What's the weather like, Artie?" asked Angelo, smiling up at the boy, who ecstatically projected a picture of   
himself standing on a mountain.   
"Leech's turn next," said Toby to the disconsolate-looking boy, who brightened considerably.  
"Hello! I'm Monet St. Croix!" said Monet breathlessly once she had Toby's attention. "Did you have a good   
journey? I mean, is everything to your satisfaction?"  
"This is great, Miss St. Croix," he assured her. On his shoulders, Artie pulled his ear, and he winced. "This is pretty   
much just what I needed."  
"Oh? And it is Monet, please."  
"Toby. And it's a little personal, thanks."  
"Your… father, maybe?" she asked delicately. He raised an eyebrow.  
"Nope. Dad's the same as ever – except that he's killing less people now that I've talked him out of it. I actually just   
broke up with my girlfriend of six years, you see."  
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she said quickly.  
"So 'm I," he said sadly. Leech tugged at his jeans, demanding his turn. Toby nodded. "If you'll excuse me, this   
young man here is demanding my attention."  
"Not at all," she said, rather quickly again. He smiled at her, before lifting his voices and raising Leech gently from   
the ground. No-one had ever been able to access their mutant power within such a close proximity to the boy. There   
was a collective gasp, except for Jubilee, who simply smirked and said, "told you." Toby lessened gravity from   
around the delighted boy, who dropped in Artie's place on Toby's shoulders as his voices lost their power. Artie was   
settled gently on a cushion by viciously clawed hands. Leech beamed as he looked down on all he surveyed.  
"Toby is fun!" he exclaimed. "Can Leech keep him?"  
  
  
Toby settled in pretty well over the next few days. He and Angelo became drinking partners, heading out to the bars   
every second night. Of course, Toby didn't get even mildly tipsy, but Angelo became utterly sloshed. It became   
academic, however, when Toby could erase the effect of the alcohol, and even cure a hangover with a short hum.   
Angelo swore his undying allegiance for that.  
Paige and Jono were good company, but what amazed Toby was the wary friendship Deadpool extended towards   
him. He and Siryn usually kept to themselves, but Wade would come and talk to Toby about that famous mission –   
the one he had been a part of. He wasn't real clear on a lot of the events that had occurred at the end, especially not   
with Northstar and Spiderman rewiring the machinery, or Toby fighting his father amongst the collapsing structures.  
Monet threatened to become an embarrassment. Jubilee and Angelo teased him mercilessly about her, and he was   
forced to resort to the threat of muzzling them. Sean, if he was around, would snort cynically at that.   
Toby also had a fairly good time mucking around with Artie and Leech. The kids were so cheerful and optimistic, he   
couldn't believe that they'd lived through the same nightmare that had so soured Marrow. They thought of many,   
many games to play, romping around the biosphere happily.   
It was on one of these occasions that Toby noticed a very strange scent, heavily laden with sorrow and regret,   
wafting out of the trees. He paused in chasing Leech, his eyes puzzled. "Hey, guys!" he called, "who's that?"  
"That Penance," said Leech in a sad tone.  
"Penance?" echoed Toby, wondering. He peered into the undergrowth, trying to discern the figure there.   
Artie projected the picture of a girl with red skin and incredibly opaque blue eyes, brighter even than Toby's. Toby   
felt his knees go a little weak. Now there was a beautiful looking woman, he thought.   
"Does she come out at all?" he asked them. Artie shook his head.  
"Penance doesn't talk," explained Leech. "She likes apples. No-one touches Penance."  
"Why not?" Toby had a brief flashback to the one time he had seen Rogue's primary mutation in play, and her   
absolute anguish afterwards.   
"Can't. Her skin's all hard," said Leech, while Artie projected himself touching the red girl's hand, and pulling away   
with his own fingers bleeding.   
"Oh…" Toby thought he understood. "Do you suppose I could meet her?"  
"Penance don't like strangers," said Leech dubiously, but Artie nodded furiously, projecting Toby holding out an   
apple to the red girl.  
"Good thinking, Artie," he grinned. "Shall we go get an apple?"  
Holding the fruit out carefully, Toby moved silently through the undergrowth as only he, Logan or Sabretooth really   
could. It was in this terrain that he was most at home, despite all his intensive training – it had nothing to do with   
instilled knowledge. It was all instinct. He could smell the sadness that was the girl's scent ahead of him, and could   
see traces of her passage. A shredded leaf here, a shorn bough there. He paused when he felt himself getting nearer,   
listening to that insistent compulsion inside that was always infallibly correct. He moved slowly, and decided it   
wouldn't be a smart move to surprise the girl. So he heavily stepped on a twig, and it snapped loudly. Her head   
turned, and she regarded him with those unfathomable blue orbs. He felt himself grow speechless.   
"H-hi, Penance," he stammered. "Artie and Leech said I should meet you."  
Naturally, she didn't answer. Simply stared at him. It was even more unnerving than Cable before his morning coffee   
– and that was a scary gaze.   
"I… brought you an apple," he said weakly. Her eyes shifted slowly from his face to the apple in his hand, before   
travelling back up to his face again. "They said you liked apples."  
Her gaze not shifting from his, her long-fingered, razor-sharp fingers reached out and grasped the fruit. Expertly, she   
sliced it up into pieces, eating them slowly. The last piece she held out to Toby. As he took it, his fingers brushed   
against hers, and he felt the diamond-hardness of her skin, and the blood seeping from his hand. He steadfastly   
ignored it, and ate the slice of apple, watching her.  
Her eyes were a little curious as she pointed towards his hand. Her face, of course, was unreadable. He cocked his   
head at her, and then looked down at his hand. The cuts were deep, but clean, and were drawing together fast. He   
held it up with a smile. "All better. You needn't be worried about hurting me."  
She stared unblinking at him, before her gaze moved to his completely healed fingers. Then she reached out again,   
and drew one finger along his forearm.  
He didn't flinch, but held her eyes as the blood welled and receded. "Healing factor," he explained. "Very handy   
thing to have."  
She watched him still, unreachable and untouchable. Then she moved a little closer to him, and gestured impatiently   
at the leather straps which bound her body.  
"What is it you need?" he asked her gently. She regarded him still, before leaning in and pressing her cold lips to his.   
The skin tore, but her mouth was soft. He found himself kissing her back.   
She pulled away, and her impassive face almost recoiled at the damage she had done his mouth. She turned to go, but   
he caught her arm, smiling under his mask of blood. "Don't run away. Please?" he asked. She looked down at his   
hand around her lower arm, his claws curling into the leather. She touched one of them carefully.  
"Yes, I am like you," he said, understanding. "It's hard for me to touch, also."  
The skin around his mouth was still ragged, but the bleeding had cleared up. He hummed a little, then boosted his   
healing factor slowly, and the skin smoothed out almost immediately. As he used his voice, however, he could feel a   
dammed-up power that strained inside the girl beside him, and his brows narrowed. From the surprise in her eyes, he   
could tell she'd felt it also.   
It was the first unguarded expression he'd seen on her face.  
"Penance," he said softly then, "would you allow me to try something? If it doesn't work, it can't hurt you. But if it   
does, you'll be able to touch people. Will you let me try it?"  
She stared at him, the fear, uncertainty and hope shining from her eyes as if she'd said the words out loud. Then she   
turned and was gone into the greenery. "Penance!" he called after her, but she was gone.  
  
  
"No!"   
Toby strode over to where Jubilee and Jono were squared off. Jono had just blocked Jubilee's open-handed thrust,   
leaving his whole side exposed by turning slightly as he did so. "Block this way," instructed Toby, demonstrating the   
stance. "Jubes, go for it."  
Jubilee grinned at him, before performing the same open-handed thrust, her palm up and her wrist slightly bent,   
driving up towards Toby's jaw. Toby leaned forward onto the balls of his feet, easily blocked the move, then   
abruptly, faster than sight, Jubilee's arm was twisted painfully straight, stretched out high behind her back.  
"Okay… uncle, already," she gasped.   
Jono shook his head.   
"It takes a little adjustment," Toby agreed. "Just play to your strengths. Take from as many styles as you need – all   
the moves which work best and are right for you. Me," he tapped his chest with his thumb-claw, "I suit styles which   
take advantage of size and speed. You," and he tapped Jono's forehead, "need to work on moves that surprise,   
disarm and disorient your opponent. Shock tactics, see?"  
sent Jono dubiously.   
"How about me, oh master guru Toby sir?" asked Jubilee impishly.  
He quirked his mouth at her. "Stop that. You oughta concentrate more. Logan taught you five times more than you're   
using. You've got the speed and dexterity, but you're relying on formula moves that everyone knows how to block or   
outmaneuver. Logan 'd be pissed."  
She poked out her tongue at him.  
"Plus, you've got a hard head," he added. "Never overlook a headbutt as the quick and efficient way to end a fight."  
She curtsied mockingly, but then the sounds of Angelo and Monet sparring caught her attention.  
They were doing well. Angelo was larger and faster, but Monet had the strength advantage. Angelo's life in the   
barrio had prepared him for this sort of combat, while Monet was a fast learner, creative and intelligent. A fact she   
constantly pointed out ingratiatingly to Toby, who was increasingly considering the notion of running as fast as he   
could.  
Angelo blocked by instinct, and he dropped and swung at Monet's feet with his leg. She leapt, and her booted foot   
caught Angelo square across the chin. He rolled with the impact before landing a beautiful three-punch combination   
to her solar plexus, effectively winding her. She gasped, and while she was disoriented, Skin's fingers telescoped   
out, snaking around her neck firmly but gently. "Adios, amiga," he informed her cheerfully.   
She gave him a sullen look.  
"Good, Angelo," said Toby. "Monet, you need to watch yourself after you've delivered a big move – like that kick.   
Always treat your opponent as though they're faster than you are."  
"But he isn't," she protested.  
Skin looked scandalized. "Yes I am!" he snapped, his face darkening.  
Toby shrugged. "Who cares? The point is, you treat each other as such."  
"Oh."  
Paige was watching, her arms folded over her tank top. "Do I get a go?" she called.  
Toby turned to grin at her. "Sure. I'll have to even the odds a bit, but okay. Jubes?"  
Her dark head whipped up from a bruise on her knee.  
"Remember that caper we do with Betts?"  
A delighted expression started to spread over her face. "Oh, yeah…" she said slowly, trying to contain her elation.  
Paige regarded her beaming once-teammate with suspicion. "I don't like that look," she said mistrustfully.  
"Oh, she's grinning because this is fun," said Toby, catching her meaning. "You two are going to gang up on me, and   
see if you can get me to cry 'uncle.' In return, I've got to be able to keep you in the same position for five seconds   
without you countering it."  
"This exercise is awesome, Paigey," gushed Jubilee. "Guys, stand back – we're going to need some room."  
Angelo, Monet and Jono backed away, their eyes suddenly wary.  
"Okay, girls," Toby raised an eyebrow, before dropping into a half-crouch, his claws glinting, "come and get me!"  
He looked so much like Sabretooth just then, that Paige and Monet couldn't help but suppress a shudder. Paige   
shook it off quickly, husking into a diamond-form and whirling to the attack. Jubilee encased her hands in long, fiery   
streaks of plasma, which dripped flame dangerously. Toby simply grinned harder as he watched them approach, not   
moving a single muscle his body over. Paige raked her fingers over his face – only to find that he wasn't there. He   
was singing again, and the fiery corona that surrounded Jubilee's hands melted away, much to her annoyance. She let   
out a fierce yell, and fireworks exploded in front of his eyes before she kicked him solidly in the face.   
Only he wasn't there again.  
"No fair with the illusions, Tiger!" Jubilee shouted, dropping to a ready position and panting slightly.  
"I know." And he flashed into visibility to drive one of his famous punches – the kind only Hank or Logan could   
walk away from with any dignity – straight into her stomach. Her eyes boggled, and with a noise that sounded like a   
sodden kitten, she slumped over. "One, two, three, four, five," he counted brusquely.  
Abruptly, diamond fingers raked over his back, and he snarled in pain as his muscles and nerves tore. Husk danced   
out of his way, before delivering a set of sparkling offensive maneuvers that left him bleeding in a dozen places, not   
least just above one of his eyes, obscuring his vision. But he still had his sense of smell, and he let it guide him,   
blocking and parrying with blinding rapidity. Jubilee rolled over on to her side, her voice hoarse as she moaned, "get   
him, Paigey…"  
Get him she did. She drove her impenetrable fingers straight through his shoulder, hearing him howl with the agony   
of broken bone and torn tendon. But she never saw his other hand, which was speeding towards the side of her head   
with blistering force. She also slumped over, dazed and half-conscious.  
Toby straightened, before really getting to work. First, he paid cursory attention to his own wounds, healing his   
shoulder until his healing factor could handle the job itself. Then he turned to Paige, carefully checking that he   
hadn't hit her temple, and bringing her gently out of her stupor. Then he moved quickly over to Jubilee, and leeched   
the pain from her system and the bruising from her flesh. She sat up slowly, shook her head slightly to get rid of that   
choral ringing from her skull. Then she stood, no worse the wear, and grinned at the startled, but completely lucid   
Paige.  
"See? I told you it was fun," she said.  
  
  
Later that night, Emma was having a fit.  
"He did what?!" she screeched.  
Downstairs, Toby winced, his hearing picking up that god-awful shriek. No wonder Jubilee calls her the White   
Witch, he thought ruefully, preparing himself for a good long ranting-at. Well, he'd only been trying to help. Practice   
exercises weren't any good against the real thing, after all, and he was custom-made to be the villain. Except for the   
actual villaining part, that was. Sure enough, Emma Frost came pelting down the stairs, and practically flew into his   
face, shouting unintelligibly. Her pretty face was obscured with anger.  
"How could you… in this house… my guardianship… unimaginable danger… berserker… understood?"  
"I'm not," he said mildly.  
That brought her up short. "Not what?" she said, regaining some of her fury. "Not completely sane?"  
"Not a berserker. At least, not any more."  
Her eyes narrowed with infinitely cold dislike. "I don't believe it's possible to erase the killing rage, just like that,"   
she snapped. "Not when your father…"  
"Actually, it's because of my father that I'm not a berserker any more," he said calmly. "And I was treating one of   
your more sheltered students to the harsh realities of hand-to-hand. Jubilee already knew – she's been my sparring   
partner heaps of times. But Paige needs to learn that not everything there is to know about fighting comes out of a   
textbook."  
Emma was completely taken aback. "Well, that's true…" she said slowly, before she flared, "but you could have   
killed her!"  
Toby shook his head firmly, his blond hair swinging in its low ponytail. "No way. I knew exactly where they were,   
what stance I would use, what timing. I was in complete control. I could have killed her, yes – but if I'd even wanted   
to, she'd have been dead before she pulled one punch."  
Her eyes narrowed again. "How do I know you're not covering up a berserker rage here?" she asked suspiciously.  
"Check my head for the whole scoop," he said wryly. "Every sordid little detail, if you need that much   
confirmation."  
"Don't discount it," she snapped back, before applying her telepathy to the task.  
Toby began to relive his life. He saw that familiar, hated orphanage, his own blood pouring out over his hands. He   
was eight. He felt his spine crack sickeningly – broken. He was paralyzed for two months, thanks to an immature   
healing factor. He was ten. Then he saw the faces of his tormentors, before a boot came down on his face. He was   
eleven. Then he saw the X-Men, and the hatred and mistrust in their eyes. He was thirteen. Then he saw the face of   
that father who had left him in such lonely misery, illuminated on a television screen. He was fourteen. Then he saw   
himself going berserk at school, almost killing everyone in sight. Still fourteen. Then he felt that overwhelming,   
crushing despair as the X-Men locked him away just like the father he so hated. Then he saw the face of Mystique,   
her yellow eyes calm, liquid and pleading as she begged forgiveness from Nightcrawler – her son. He was fifteen.   
Then he saw his father again, and the rage threatened to overwhelm him. They simply sat and talked. He was   
seventeen. Then his father again, and the words 'Look at me. You keep this up, this is you.' He felt himself answer,   
'I think I love you too, Dad.' The rage fled, with the blame and the hatred, dissolved by the forgiveness. A month   
ago. He was nineteen.   
By time he had relived the whole painful experience of losing Gabrielle, Emma was crying. "I… didn't know," she   
said, tears trickling a path down her alabaster skin. Her face, apart from her welling eyes, was impassive. "I'm   
terribly sorry, Toby."  
He swallowed, before trying to shrug and failing miserably. "I'm only nineteen. Plenty of time for things to start   
improving."  
She nodded a little. "I think I understand what you mean about the hand-fighting, now," she mused, recalling the   
vivid memory of Creed and Toby fighting with dizzying velocity, each bent on tearing the other to shreds.   
Toby gave her a half-grin. His life, short as it was, felt a terrible weight. All that pain – Logan was right. It was only   
when he looked back that he realized how much he'd lived through.  
"Will you be training Monet or Jonothon in the same way? They also haven't much expertise in close combat…" she   
asked, a little apologetically as she dashed the tears away. Only a little. "Especially Jono."  
Toby nodded. "That, and some other ways. Not as much fun perhaps…"  
"That was fun?" Emma regarded him in astonishment.  
"Sure. Jubilee, Psylocke and I have been training together that way for about two years," he assured her. "You   
should see the sparks fly when Logan and Cable join in. We can go out swinging as hard as we can, because I stitch   
everyone up afterwards. Once, Bish actually snapped Bobby's frozen arm off. You should have seen the panic attack   
he had."  
Emma's mouth twitched. "I can imagine. How did you heal that?"  
Toby shrugged. "I didn't. Bobby's powers have been jumping ahead since last month, when he got melted from the   
inside out. He fashioned another arm out of ice, whacked it on, and hey presto. Instant limb replacement."  
"Will wonders never cease," she murmured. "Maybe Drake can build himself a spine while he's at it."  
"Uncalled for," Toby said lightly. "Oh, that's right. I meant to ask about the girl living in the biosphere – Penance. I   
met her yesterday, and she reacted very strangely to the use of my voice."  
She frowned. "I've never seen Penance react to anything."  
"She has some sort of locked power inside her – a power I can manipulate. It isn't under her control." Toby tilted his   
head. "I was wondering whether I could try to unlock it."  
Emma regarded him, a little of her suspicion creeping back. "Will it hurt her?"  
"If it doesn't work, it won't hurt her," Toby assured her. "But if it does, she'll be able to control her own mutation."  
"You mean… touch people?" Emma hedged. Toby nodded, his blue eyes dancing.  
"Exactly."  
She took a deep breath, and bit her lower lip. "Why haven't you tried this technique on Rogue, then?"  
"I have," Toby shrugged. "Her power is all fucked up thanks to all the people she's absorbed. It's not purely Terran   
anymore. I can dampen it, or erase it for a few hours, but not indefinitely. Also, Rogue has some sort of natural   
resistance to the power of my voice. It's a sort of long term project for me – I've been studying the problem since I   
was sixteen. I'm almost there, too," he added proudly. "It's like a layer effect – each power she absorbs acts like a   
blanket. My voice can get through the first blanket, a little way through the second, but cannot reach the third – the   
powers she absorbed from Ms Marvel. It's an absolute conundrum."  
She was giving him a speculative look. "You know, you're nothing like I expected you to be," she said after a pause.  
He shrugged. "Neither are you. What were you expecting?"  
"Some sort of adolescent Wolverine – badly educated and intent on destruction, other people's or your own." She   
laughed. "And here I find you are exceedingly well educated, very analytical, and bizarrely cool-headed."  
"Well, I was expecting an absolutely impossible snob with a heart of stone," he grinned.   
She sniffed. "I'm sure."  
"Joking."  
"Oh."  
"So… shall I see if I can help Penance?"  
Her brows narrowed for a moment, as she considered it. "You have some kind of ulterior motive here," she   
perceived, picking up on his eagerness.  
"Well… yes," he confessed. "She's so much like I was. I was absolutely terrified when my claws grew out, once I   
came to the X-Mansion. I couldn't touch a thing for months – and then everyone was afraid of me. Afraid and a little   
bit sympathetic." His fists tightened, the claws biting into his palms. "They could've kept their sympathy and tried to   
help me. Instead, it was the people at school who helped me the most."  
She kept that cool stare on him, judging his sincerity, and then nodded.   
He nodded. "Understood."  
Then her eyes twinkled. "Now that the obligatory threat is over, would you mind outlining what you mean to do?"  
  
  
Angelo stood outside.  
It was his usual smoking spot. The ground was littered with discarded cigarette butts, a couple of magazines on a   
ledge. He wasn't reading. He was thinking.  
Jubilee was back, and with her she brought back all those fun, painful, hectic memories. He blew out a stream of   
smoke and leaned back against the wall. Images of the six of them – including Everett's laughing face – danced   
before his eyes. He shook his head and sighed. Everett. When he was alive, Jubilee had made very clear her   
preference for him. Angelo had hidden his bittersweet longings, because he knew that he wasn't about to get a look-  
in. How could a skinny, gawky, grey-skinned barrio boy compete with the tall, handsome and capable Synch? He   
thought that his infatuation was just that – an infatuation – and when Jubilee left that he would get on with life and   
'get over it.' He had, to an extent, by going out for a year with a bright, perky 'normal' girl from the school. Now he   
realized he'd only gone out with her because she reminded him of Jubilee. Pathetic of him, really.  
He'd pushed the painful thoughts to the back of his mind, and over time, he didn't dwell on them. But now she was   
back, after six years, and they all flooded over him again. He gritted his teeth, and stubbed out the cigarette angrily,   
before whipping out his pack for another. After all, it was the only time he really had to be alone, wasn't it?  
It was empty. The saddest sight in the world – an empty cigarette packet. He felt an irrational frustration mounting,   
and threw the empty packet to the ground, resisting the urge to jump on it.  
"Want one of mine?"  
It was Toby, walking around the corner with his hands jammed into his black jacket's pockets. The wind was pulling   
his thick blond hair free of the tie at the nape of his neck. He looked, thought Angelo sourly, like everything Jubilee   
would want in a man. And he was young, and smart, and powerful.  
Damn bastard.  
Then Angelo remembered how screwed up this poor kid was in the head, and rescinded his words. "Thanks, amigo,"   
he accepted, as Toby held out his pack. "Marlboro Reds… not bad."  
Toby leaned back against the wall. "Something the matter?"  
"That obvious?"  
Toby grinned as he held out the lighter, and tapped his nose. "You'd be amazed at how much the emotions colour a   
scent."  
Angelo took a deep drag of the cigarette, and handed Toby back the lighter. "So what am I smelling like now,   
hmm?"  
Toby's mouth quirked. Angelo wondered if he knew how much fang got revealed when he did that. Probably not, he   
decided, or he'd never even smile again. "You're very sad at the moment," said Toby after a pause. "And frustrated,   
and angry. And a little jealous."  
"Dios, better than telepathy," muttered Angelo. Toby shrugged.  
"Practice. Logan's far better than I am. His memory for scents is amazing. Dad…" and Toby's voice trailed off as he   
realized that the topic of his father wasn't exactly tactful.  
"What about him?" asked Angelo steadily.  
Toby regarded him for another moment, before nodding and taking a drag of the smoke. "Dad's a stand-up kinda   
guy," he said, smiling a little at the memory. "He takes things on instinct. Logan's less animal about the way he   
tracks – analyzes a smell, catalogues it, stuff like that."  
"You?"  
"Hell, I dunno. I'll recognize a scent and catalogue it, but in a pinch I'll listen to what my instinct has to say. I   
suppose you could say that I'm somewhere in between." Toby flicked the ash off the cigarette, his eyes distant.   
"So you think of it as listening to your instinct?" asked Angelo. Despite himself, he was curious. This was the closest   
anyone was ever going to get to quizzing Sabretooth.   
"Sometimes. When I had the berserker rage, it was like the instinct wanted to take over, instead of being the back-  
seat driver. Usually it's pretty infallible – I mean, it's hardly ever wrong about anything. It's like a split-second   
precognitive flash, guiding you along."  
"Must be useful," said Angelo a little enviously.  
"Not when it tries to take over, it's not." Toby's jaw tensed at the memories, and his hair fell down, obscuring his   
eyes. Then he raised his head, and gave Angelo another half-smile. "So, you gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you   
gonna keep asking me questions?"  
That brought Angelo up sharp. "Caramba, man, I'm beginnin' to think I should just keep my mouth shut."  
"If you do that, then you're never going to tell anyone," pointed out Toby, "and then nothing'll be done about it."  
"Point." Angelo sighed and took another draw. Then he let the smoke out slowly, trying to get up the guts to do this.   
He'd been holding back this 'secret crush' thing for almost seven years. Yet Toby did have a point, and he was the   
best one to tell, really. He wasn't a part of the team, and he was fairly sympathetic. What's more, he was smart.  
"It's kinda personal," he began, "and mucho embarrassing. I mean, I thought Jubilee was a great kid the first day I   
met her, but it was when we started training, and fighting, and mucking around together that…"  
"You liked her?" said Toby perceptively.  
Ang' nodded. "I thought it was just a schoolkid's crush, and so I didn't think so much of it. I mean, Jubilee was so   
wrapped up in Everett – an' then he died. I wanted more than anything to comfort her," he added softly.  
"But it wasn't just a young kid's infatuation, was it?" said Toby understandingly. "She's back, and she brought it all   
back to you. You're falling in love with her."  
Angelo was absolutely rock-still. Toby had said that word he'd been shying around for a while now. "I… maybe I   
am, then," he said, surprising himself. It felt bizarrely right.  
"Ang', do you know the main reason I'm here?" Toby asked after a pause.  
"Not to work out my stupid life, I reckon," said Angelo wryly. Toby smiled a little sadly.  
"I broke up with my girlfriend of six years a few days ago. I loved her more than anything in the world. And she left   
me. I'm here to figure out what to do with myself."  
Angelo was silent. He didn't know what to say.  
"I'm telling you because I think you may feel the same way," said Toby gently, before stubbing out the cigarette and   
striding off, his hands jammed in his pockets, whistling a plaintive tune.  
  
  
It was late by the time Toby returned inside. He had been out on the grounds, running through some late-night katas   
before he went to bed. He was pleased, once he started, to find that he hadn't lost the knack of keeping the positions   
perfect and fluid, flexible and strong. He was pleasantly exhausted once he fell back on the bed, his feet sticking out   
over the end. He looked down at them sourly, and cursed the lesser-known evils of being seven feet tall.  
Then a pair of bright blue eyes blinked at him from over his toes, and he tensed, before seeing a long-fingered red   
hand come up and place itself on the sheets. They tore like paper, but he paid them no mind. "Penny?"  
Naturally, she didn't say anything. She moved around the bed to his side, her feet scratching against the floor, and   
hesitantly pointed to his mouth.  
He smiled. "All better. I told you, you don't need to be worried. I'm a fast healer."  
She didn't give him a response, and he wondered if she understood anything he was saying. But she seemed satisfied   
with just the sound of his voice. Then she pointed outside, and one of her razor hands moved in a kata block, and his   
eyes widened. He sat up, and looked seriously into her face.   
"You saw me practicing, didn't you?" he asked her, before also pointing outside. She looked at him impassively.  
He tried to swallow his elation at the idea that was coming to him. "Would you like me to teach you?" he asked,   
pointing to her, then himself, then outside, then sketching a thrust and parry. Her face didn't give him any clue, but   
her eyes shone with eagerness. He sensed the shift in her scent, from overwhelming sadness to a slight anticipation.   
He restrained himself from jumping up into the air and whooping, instead, running a hand over her hair softly. It bit   
into his palms, but she seemed to like it, and her eyes closed in delight. Then they snapped open and almost guiltily   
moved to his hand. He held it below her eyes, and she watched as it healed within minutes.  
"See? Stop worrying, beautiful girl. Let's go!"   
He stood up and stretched a little, his weariness absolutely forgotten. She looked at him, her face blank but those   
liquid blue pools curious. He held out his hand, and beckoned with the other. "C'mon. It'll be fun!"  
Shyly, she slipped her hand into his. He could feel the sharp, smooth edges, like glass or metal, and she was cool to   
the touch. Four furrows of blood welled in his palm, but he barely felt them, so preoccupied with the sensation of her   
skin. She blinked at him apprehensively, before he gently led her from his room to the crisp, still night and the   
grounds outside.  
And so he started to train Penance.  
  
  
Four weeks later, Toby had stopped thinking of Gabrielle every day. It made him a little contrite, to think that   
someone he so cared about could be so discarded. But he was utterly immersed in the goings on of the school, which   
was what he had wanted, wasn't it? To take his mind off Gabby. Then why did he feel so guilty and sorrowful when   
he finally thought of her?  
He knew the answer. Penance. She had taken a very special liking to him, it seemed, astonishing the entire team and   
completely disarming Emma Frost. She would seek him out especially, at the most inopportune times – such as   
shower-time, dinner or three am. She would creep up to him, and tentatively put her long-fingered hand on his, then   
lift it and place it on her hair. He would smile at her, and run the bleeding palm over the glossy spikes, while she   
drowned him in those bottomless eyes.   
Sean was absolutely flabbergasted, to say the least.  
The training was going well, with only a few minor interruptions such as the Neo or the Phalanx. The techno-organic   
beings tried to assimilate Toby, but his healing factor ran up an overtime by completely expelling them, before he   
sliced them into so much computer chips.   
Angelo, if anything, was even more miserable. He simply didn't know what to do, and Jubilee, to make matters   
worse, didn't seem to notice. He would talk sadly to Toby on their customary cigarette breaks, quietly mourning his   
own lack of initiative. His usual irreverence and sarcastic wit petered out, and the only satisfaction he really got was   
from pummeling Toby in the biosphere. He was so frustrated one day, he broke Toby's arm, and snapped off two   
claws.   
One particularly fine day, Toby was lounging by the poolside in a pair of old jeans. His body, no matter how hard he   
tried, would never, ever tan, so he had given up years ago and now only sunbathed for the sheer pleasure of it. He   
had always loved the sun, ever since his early orphanage years. It had become a friend and a mother-substitute to a   
lonely child, winking and smiling down on him. Even now, with an adult's understanding, he felt a certain   
attachment to it. No wonder he was thought to be a Leo, he mused. Penance was beside him, as usual, her fingers   
resting lightly on his and her eyes unreadable. Deadpool was swimming laps, and Siryn was reading some rubbish   
magazine.  
"Hey, Toby," she suddenly called. "There's another article in here about ye."  
"Not again," he groaned.   
"It's got some kinda 'inside information'… ooh! Is that ye lassie, there, lad?"  
She held up the magazine. There, smiling her mischievous smile, was a picture of Gabby.  
"Give me that!" he said abruptly, standing in one fluid movement and taking the magazine. His eyes skimmed down   
the article. "…never there… the world isn't big enough for him… all this press… I was always second to the X-  
Men…" the words jumped out at him. He choked, before pushing the article back at her and slumping to the ground,   
his head in his hands.   
"Toby, laddie?" asked Teresa worriedly. "Are ye alright?"  
"No," he snarled. "No, I'm fucking peachy, thanks. Jesus Christ!"  
She bit her lower lip, then also skimmed over the article. "Oh," she said, dawning comprehension in her eyes. "Oh,   
Toby, I'm sorry…"  
"Somethin' the matter, sport?" asked Wade lightly as he pulled himself out of the water. His ruined face was genial,   
but there was also the glint of concern in his eyes. Deadpool wasn't friends with many, but he liked to count Toby as   
one of them. And if there was one good character feature he possessed, (apart from being a stunning specimen, he   
qualified) it was that he was good to his friends. Usually. When he wasn't kicking their asses.  
Toby didn't answer, fighting to hold the tears back. I will not cry in front of Deadpool, I will not cry in front of   
Deadpool…He hadn't cried since he was thirteen years old – the day he found out who his father was. It felt like a   
dam was breaking.   
"Wade, love, I think we're better off leavin' the lad alone," said Terry softly. Wade gave the boy a long look, taking   
in the shaking shoulders, and privately decided that she was right. He'd seen this boy go nuts, after all, and he'd   
practically torn down a building single-handedly.   
"She left me," Toby said in a dead voice. "I thought I was just about out of this, and now…!"  
"Tobes…" said Wade helplessly. "I… don't know what to say."  
"She said she hated the press. Then why did she go to them?" he hissed.  
Teresa and Wade shared a powerless look. Then Terry knelt down beside him, and put an arm over his shuddering   
shoulders. "Toby," she murmured. "Ye loved her, I can see that. But she's changed if that's her game – if she'll put   
this nonsense above ye. I think ye had the right idea – try to put it behind ye, love. Dinnae forget her, or hate her, just   
remember her as she was. That's all I can give ye."  
He felt a slight, sweet pain on his arm, and saw Penance looking at him with a blank face but gloriously   
compassionate eyes. He swallowed painfully and took a shuddering breath. "Hi there, Penny," he whispered.  
She pointed to his eyes, and her magnificent head tilted to one side. Terry smiled sadly and moved away, to where   
Wade fidgeted with anxiety. She jerked her head, and the two moved away, Deadpool naturally trying to look back.   
Toby nodded to the girl. "I know. I'll stop soon."  
She shook that deadly hair, and pointed to his eyes again, then pointed to her own, letting her finger trail down her   
cheek.  
"You think I should cry, huh?"  
She was completely unreadable, but she blinked steadily and understandingly at him.   
"Maybe I should then."  
And he did, burying his face in his hands, and softly letting the tears run. Six years of sweet, innocent happiness   
gone, his childhood sweetheart gone, the only link to a remotely normal life. She had turned into someone he hardly   
knew, as Terry had said, someone who would sell out someone who loved her to the savage press. Toby now knew   
exactly how Hank had felt, when Trish Tilby had done the same to him. Angry, bitter, helpless, and saturated with   
anguish. He let the little drops roll silently down his face. Penance, her eyes understanding, caught one on a deadly   
fingertip, and studied it for a few moments, before touching his face.  
Finally, he had no tears left. He irrationally wondered if his healing factor replaced them. Penance was still watching   
him, and he wiped off his face roughly, before deciding he'd acted like a fool long enough. "Sorry about that," he   
murmured. She let her eyes drop to her hand. He followed them.  
She was holding an apple out to him.   
He blinked. Was this some effort to make him feel better, he wondered? Meeting her eyes again, he took it from her,   
letting his claws slice the fruit. He held up a piece for her, and her fingers scraped his claws as she took it. He smiled   
a little bitterly.  
"Perhaps it's just as well. No-one should be able to touch me either," he muttered.  
She blinked at him as she chewed the apple slowly.  
"Except you, of course," he amended. "You can only hurt me on the outside."  
She swallowed, and regarded him steadily, as if waiting for something.  
"You ready then?" he asked softly. He wasn't sure what he was asking.  
There was confidence and trust in her eyes. He wondered how long she'd had to work to build it.  
"Then here we go." Toby lifted his voices, and the melodies swirled intricately around them. Penance closed her eyes   
in absolute rapture, her mouth opening slightly. He'd wondered how he was going to do this, but discarded all his   
theories, and drew upon all those emotions of a few moments ago. He could feel the corresponding emotions deep   
within her, straining at the leash, a counterpoint to his own. A locked power, something he was able to bring to the   
surface. The strength of his voice hit her like tears on a sheet of paper, impacting and spreading slightly, slowly. Her   
skin darkened in places to a black-red, and then it softened and smoothed out to the usual blood colour, the effect   
spreading out in concentric circles all over her. Her razor-like hair yielded at the tips, then it started to sag under its   
weight, curling about her shoulders in heavy tresses. The darkening and the subsequent molding of her skin had   
spread to her hands, running down her deadly fingers. Her eyes opened wide in awe, as she watched them become   
small and rounded, deepening in colour towards the tips. She let out a cry as the music traveled to her face, her   
emotions swelling in order to provide the strength he needed – the first sound she'd ever made.  
Toby was sweating now, his brow laced in concentration. He was deep within the matrix of her power, throwing   
open doors and letting it run free. It was hers, and should be under her control. His voices were weakening, so he was   
using the empathetic nature of them in order to conserve their strength, employing the intensity of emotion they had   
both displayed. It was hard work, but at hearing her cry, he snapped back to the moment. He was almost there! He   
grasped the threads of her powers and brought them to the forefront, undoing all the damage Emplate had done to   
this innocent. Quickly, before the backlash overwhelmed him, he disengaged himself and let his voices die down,   
before throwing himself clear as an intense red light shone from every pore of the girl's skin, and she collapsed.  
Panting, he crawled towards her, worried beyond measure that something had gone wrong. He couldn't stand it if her   
trust him in had been misplaced. Reaching her, he hesitated, before turning her over and looking into her face.  
Her eyes were closed, but the changes, even unconscious, were profound. Her face was soft and smooth to the touch,   
with a hint of that cool, glassy feeling, and it moved as she twitched a little, her mouth opening slightly. Her hands   
were normal-shaped, and black-red at the tips, and her hair was the same red as it whispered around Toby's claws,   
seemingly alive.   
"Penance," he whispered.  
Her eyes blinked a few times, and she seemed disoriented, before she focused on him. For a moment, she was as   
expressionless as before. Then her hand traveled up to brush his face, and the skin remained intact.  
And she smiled.   
  
  
Angelo was smoking again.  
What a surprise there. Since Jubilee's return, he'd started to smoke twice as heavily, using it as an excuse to get   
away from all those painful recollections. And so he was the first to see Penance's transformation, the lit cigarette   
dropping to the ground even as his jaw hit shoe-leather.  
"Madre de Dios," he whispered.  
Penance was laughing, giggling as she rode on Toby's shoulders just as Artie and Leech had that day of his arrival.   
Her tight leather bindings were unraveled at the wrist and feet, her hair was soft and free as it swung out behind her.   
She was holding Toby's bare hand in hers, and he couldn't see a drop of blood anywhere.  
"Ch… chica?" Angelo managed.   
Her head whipped around, as did Toby's, and they both broke out in a grin when they saw him. "Hi Angelo," said   
Toby, grinning.  
"Angelo!" cried Penance.  
Angelo didn't know what to say, as the girl clambered down from Toby, nimble as a squirrel, and raced towards him.   
"How… how did you do this, amigo?" he asked weakly.  
Toby rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, you know how my voices can manipulate any power?"  
"Oh." Penance had reached him now, and stopped a foot away.   
"Angelo," she said again, with satisfaction. Her voice was light and smooth as honey.   
"Buenos Dios, senorita," he faltered.  
"Buenos Dios, senorita," she mimicked. "Angelo!"  
"Does she know any other words?" said Skin, a little poleaxed.  
"I have a theory," said Toby, laughing as the girl pried Angelo's fingers out of his fists, crying "Angelo! Buenos   
Dios! Theory, senorita!"   
"Which is?"  
"I think she's been deaf all this time. She's learned to communicate through sight and gesture, but no-one else could   
decipher it. She could feel the vibrations when we speak, though, which is why my voice affected her so much. My   
nose, thankfully, was able to pick up on a fair bit." Toby didn't mention the extraordinary emotions that had shone   
from her eyes. "Now she's repeating everything she hears. She's got to relearn to talk."  
"Talk!"  
"Er, yeah, chica. Well, that makes sense." Angelo tried to fend her off, but she slipped in close and kissed him, hard   
on the mouth. "Caramba…!"  
Toby chuckled. "There's that, too. She's going to be all over everyone until she's used to touching again."  
Angelo thought he could probably stand that.   
When Toby led Penance inside, she was gleefully repeating everything Toby pointed out, interspersed with curses in   
Spanish from the still-dumbfounded Angelo.   
"And that's a chair."  
"Chair!"  
"No, that's… oh forget it."  
"Forget!"  
"I wish. That's a door."  
"Door!"  
"And that's Mr. Cassidy, in the doorway."  
She paused, looking as Banshee with her soulful eyes. "Cassidy," she repeated softly.   
Sean stared at her. "Penance, love? Is that really you?"  
She nodded. "Penance," she said proudly. "Toby, Penance, Angelo, Cassidy!" she added.  
"Oh my lord, lass," said Sean brokenly, but his eyes were shining with joy. "Just look at ye! Saints, but ye're   
beautiful!"  
"Beautiful," she agreed.  
"Come here, Penny," he coaxed, holding out his arms. "Let ol' Sean give his little silent lass a hug."  
She smiled at him, before flying into his arms, and, just as she had for Angelo, kissing him soundly on the lips.  
"Well, now!" the Irishman said, stunned.  
"Erm, she's not real conversant with the finer forms of propriety yet," said Toby, trying to hide his grin and failing   
miserably.  
"Ye don't need to tell me that, lad," said Sean, trying not to grin himself. "'Tis a fair wonder to behold. How'd ye do   
it?"  
"I think we ought to tell everyone together," said Angelo. "Otherwise, he's going to be telling it all night."  
"Aye, there's an idea. I'll talk to Emma, an' tell her to gather everyone in the biosphere…"  
"Not the biosphere!" said Toby suddenly.  
Sean looked surprised, but then looked at the happily crowing Penance, and nodded. "Good thinkin', lad. All right   
then, the rec room. That should do it, aye?"  
"Sounds great." Toby fended Penance's exuberance off skillfully, and allowed her to perch on his back again, where   
she buried her face in his hair. "Erm… quickly?" he added. "I don't think my aim in life was to become a jungle   
gym."  
  
  
Twenty minutes later, Emma, Sean and the team were gathered in the rec room. Angelo had a slightly superior look   
on his face that screamed 'I know something you don't know.' Sean was beaming like a proud grandparent. Emma   
was trying to glean the matter from his thoughts, but he kept evading her with old techniques learned years ago from   
Phoenix. It was exasperating her, to say the least.  
"Now, would you mind telling us why we're all here?" asked Monet acerbically. She also couldn't lift the knowledge   
from Angelo's consciousness, and it was making her sour.  
said Jono sardonically. He and Paige had been interrupted, and he wasn't too happy   
about it.  
"I dunno, lad, should we?" Sean asked Angelo.  
Angelo shrugged as only he really could. "Oh, I s'pose so," he said airily. Beside him, Jubilee was absolutely   
buzzing with annoyance and frustration. She was the Queen of the gossip chain, after all, not him!  
"Toby?" called Sean. "Ye can bring her in, now."  
Toby's head poked around the door, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Um, she's swinging on the furniture," he   
said a little apologetically. "This'll take a few seconds."  
"Who?" Emma, Jubilee and Paige demanded immediately. Toby grinned at them and disappeared again. They could   
faintly hear his voice.  
"Ye'll see," said Sean with a smile, folding his arms over his chest.  
Emma had a few suspicions at that point.  
Toby's voice grew closer, and they could hear the words, "That's it, now take my hand… no, put that down,   
please…"  
He backed into the room, and holding his hand, examining a vase in her other, was the new, all improved Penance.   
They gaped.  
She smiled brightly and curiously at them, her supple red skin gleaming. "Buenos!" she said.  
"Oh. My. God."  
  
"Look at her!"  
"This is amazing!"  
"Monet? Breathe…."  
  
"Jono!"  
  
"Monet, dude, you're zoning… oh, she's gone."  
"How…"   
"Zoning!" Penance announced, and they all stared at her.  
Toby cleared his throat. "Ah, I think I ought to explain at this point."  
'Not a bad idea," said Emma, a little weakly.  
Penance let go of his hand and gave him the vase, and went over to Jubilee. "Apple?" she asked.  
Jubilee gawked at her. "…"  
"Well, I told Miss Frost, about a month ago, about a power I could feel inside Penance. It resonated whenever I used   
my voice around her. But it wasn't under her authority, and so I deduced that it was this factor that inhibited her from   
controlling the density of her skin. I got to know her, and gain her trust, before I tried anything." Toby looked   
apologetically at Emma. "I'm afraid it almost didn't work. I had to tap into my empathy to keep up the strength   
needed. Anyway, I managed it – just – this afternoon. After I saw an article about my… about my ex-girlfriend. The   
intensity of the emotions was what kept us running, wasn't it?" he said to the girl, whose arms were wrapped around   
Jubilee.  
"Running," she agreed.  
"Anyway, I have a loose theory about why she can communicate with us now, when she couldn't before. I reckon   
that as her skin hardens, so does everything else. Nothing can get in or out – which explains why telepaths couldn't   
read her. The only senses she could rely upon would have been sight and touch – as everything else would have been   
frozen. She wouldn't be able to hear us talking to her, but she could see us and feel the vibrations from our voices.   
That would have been why mine affected her so much," he added.  
"Then why can't she speak now?" asked Paige.  
"She can't remember exactly how. She's getting it back, slowly, which is why she's repeating the words we say –   
words which catch in her memory." Toby laughed as Penance kissed Jubilee on the cheek, and then she giggled as   
Jubes kissed her back. "Also, she's going to be touching everything in sight until she's used to it. Right, Mr.   
Cassidy?"  
"Er… aye," said Sean diplomatically.  
"Cassidy! Cassidy, Cassidy, Cassidy! Buenos Dios Penance!"  
"Exactly, Penny. Also, her skin might be under her control now, but she doesn't know how to use it. I think we're   
going to have to wait a while to get to that part though – it's going to be a long time before she wants to again."  
"No kiddin', dude," said Jubilee.  
"Kiddin'!" Penny kissed Jubilee on the cheek again, and wriggled around so she was facing Angelo. "Angelo,   
kiddin'?" she asked.  
"Usually," he answered.   
She beamed, her blue eyes sparkling. Then she whirled on Jono, and kissed him too, on top of his left eye.   
"Kiddin'!" she announced.  
  
"I don't think that means what she thinks it means," said Paige dubiously, who balked when Penance turned to her,   
and swooped down on her. "Umm, help?" Paige gasped, before Penance kissed her– right on the lips. Angelo and   
Jubilee hid their laughter with an identical gesture.   
Toby decided it was time he saved them from their exuberant young friend. "Hey, Penny?" he called.  
Her head whipped around, her hair swinging in Paige's face. She spluttered.  
"C'mon, you wanna apple?"  
"Apple?"  
"Yeah, an apple."  
"Apple!" she crowed triumphantly, and she leapt onto Toby and kissed him soundly. He could feel his ears burning   
as the room chuckled at him.  
"Enjoy your apple," murmured Emma.  
  
  
"Stop laughing," hissed Toby.  
"I can't help it!" giggled Jubilee. "The look on your face…!"  
"Can't help it," agreed Penance, her eyes dancing, before she shared another look with Jubilee and the two started   
laughing again.  
"I think this was a bad idea," Toby grumbled, sitting on the fountain rim and crossing his arms.  
"You reckon?"  
Penance mockingly exaggerated a pout, and then doubled over, peal after peal of silvery laughter filling the air. Most   
of the people in the mall turned in surprise to watch the pretty girl laughing at the blond man.   
It was Jubilee's idea, naturally. She thought that Penance should get used to an environment with more than seven   
people. It was simply an excuse to go shopping, really - but Penance wouldn't come without Toby. She was getting   
more accomplished in her communication skills, and an image inducer hid her red skin under the illusion of a   
peaches and cream complexion. She was adamant, however, that her image should have her own eyes and hair. As a   
result, she was turning more heads than Betsy, Rogue and Jean in a wet T-shirt competition.   
Not as many as Toby, though. Women who obviously read the right magazines were tentatively walking up to him   
and asking him questions, and one even asked for his autograph. It was because of her that the two girls were   
laughing at him so hard, and his mood was so sour. Added to this was his hatred of shopping – he'd loathed it ever   
since Rogue had dragged him along for the very first time. He inevitably ended up carrying all the bags. And because   
his pride wouldn't let him use an image inducer ("the world can take me as I am, or it can kiss my white mutant   
ass!") he was getting a lot of recognition.   
"I hate this," he murmured.  
Jubilee grinned at him. "Deal, dude. You should have seen the uproar the press had when I first appeared. Man, they   
were like, 'shouldn't the kid be in school?' Total media frenzy."  
"Tell me about it," Toby groaned, watching under his hands as another woman stopped and gawked at him. "Oh,   
shit."  
"Famous," said Penance, shrugging.  
"Yeah, but I don't want to be." Toby sighed and stretched a little. Jubilee had been buying clothes for Penny, and   
naturally, he was carrying the bags. They were giving him a crick in the neck.   
Penance did, he had to concede, look amazing in what Jubilee picked. Usually black, or dark blue or green, the deep   
colours lent her an aura of mysteriousness. She'd also favoured a pretty white shirt, and insisted on parading in front   
of them in her selections. The black swimsuit had really tried him. He shivered a little as the spray from the fountain   
soaked through his shirt. His favourite was the evening gown – he always had liked a touch of class. This was Class   
Incarnate. It was black, naturally, with a corset laced tightly up the back, leaving her shoulders bare. A slight bustle   
and short train on the skirt added to the utter stylish brass of the dress. Lace and stocking and stiletto heels peeked   
out from under the skirt. He had felt his mouth go dry as she stepped out, her hair pulled up in a loose knot at the   
back of her head, blood-red curls cascading down one shoulder. She had grinned mischievously at him.   
"Think?" she'd asked.  
He'd just stared at her, and then swallowed. "Definitely apple," he said weakly.  
She'd twirled happily, her skirts fanning out behind her. "Toberoonie, breathe," hissed Jubilee.  
"We gotta find some excuse for her to wear that," he hissed back.  
She'd smiled slyly. "Trust me."  
"I hate that phrase Jubes, you know that."  
She had touched the side of her nose. "Yeah, which is why I say it as often as possible."  
"That's not nice."  
"I know." Jubes gave the gracefully swirling Penance a thumbs up. "Looks awesome, Penny!"  
She'd ruined her elegant effect by returning the thumbs up.   
Beautiful the dress may have been, but it also weighed a ton. "Guys," asked Toby. "Is there any café around here that   
I can hide in for a few minutes? I really want a coffee. Well – a beer'd be better, but we are not taking Penny into a   
pub."  
Jubilee covered her smile. "Sure dude. There's a little café and ice-cream parlour thingie around the block. It isn't   
real well known, and it's pretty quiet, 'y'know?"  
"Sounds perfect," he said immediately, picking up the backs and standing. Penny immediately swarmed up his back   
and crowed as she buried her hands in his hair, looking out over the heads of the startled crowd.  
"So much for anonymity," he sighed.  
"Courage, Tiger," grinned Jubilee.  
"Don't you start."  
The little café was the kind of place one would take their children fifty years ago. Old fashioned ice-cream, poky   
little corners, and checked tablecloths. It was very clean, however, and very quiet. There was a couple of families   
drinking milkshakes or coffees, and a couple with a double sundae. Penance's eyes lit up at the sight of all that tooth-  
decaying sweetness. She'd found that she loved sweets – though not as much as apples. Apples were still an   
uncontested number one.  
Toby sighed as the heads turned as he stepped inside. "Damn. Have I mentioned how much I hate the press today?"  
"Never say that in front of Hank, sunshine," said Jubilee lightly, choosing a table and sitting down. "C'mon Penny."  
"Hank went through it too," Toby pointed out. "Specially during his Avengers tenure."  
"Yeah, and then Trish."  
"Ice-cream!"  
"You betcha, Penny. Are those two still itemized?"  
"No, I don't think so. I think Hank's got his eye on Cecilia Reyes now."  
"He's had his eye on Cece for aaages."  
"Hello, my-name-is-Cathy, may-I-help-you?" said the bubbly waitress. Toby hummed a bit, waiting for Jubilee to   
pick up on the hint.  
She got it almost immediately. "Yeah, a double cookies-and-cream sundae…"  
"And one for me too," interrupted Toby.  
Hello, my-name-is-Cathy's eyes went very wide as his voices echoed slightly. "Erm, they're pretty big, mister…."  
"He eats a lot," said Jubilee, grinning vindictively. "Don't you, tiger?"  
"Please, Jubes, don't be my friend any more," he moaned as hello, my-name-is-Cathy gaped at his fangs.   
"T… Tiger?" she gasped. "Oh my gawd!"  
"I doubt it," said Toby a little sourly.  
"Can you, like, sign something for me? Oh my total gawd!" Her hands fumbled in the pocket of her apron as Toby's   
forehead fell onto his hands. "I've got a friend who's majorly in love with you – she's gonna go lunar!"  
"Me?" asked Toby weakly.   
Penance stifled her laughter with her fist. "Toby famous Toby time," she murmured.  
"Not you too?" he asked, aghast.   
Hello, my-name-is-Cathy hopped from one foot to the other, practically fizzing in excitement. The families sitting in   
the restaurant turned to stare. "It's to Sally… and can I have one too? To Cathy? Oh, you rock, man…."  
"Dude, turn down the volume a bit," advised Jubilee, grinning from ear to ear. "He's way shy."  
"I can tell," she gushed. "Oh, wow…" she breathed, as Toby handed her back the slips of paper. "Thank you soooo   
much!"   
"That is so embarrassing," Toby muttered as she bounced away, high on euphoria. Penance leaned her chin on one   
hand and poked him in the shoulder with the other. "And you, you brat," he growled, and she giggled at his mock-  
anger. A few of the kids gaped at his growl, but relaxed when they saw the pretty girl with him laughing. Some of   
the older ones began to whisper.  
"Do you really hate it that much?" asked Jubilee curiously.  
He sighed. "Well… not really. It's just, it reminds me of Gabby, and why I lost her – and what she did after. I mean,   
have you seen the press she's getting, because she was my girlfriend? And she's been offered a modeling contract…   
Jesus Christ, it's like she broke up with me because of the benefits of the scandal she'd produce."  
Jubilee wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't.  
Just then, one of the kids pulled at Toby's sleeve, and he looked down. It was a little boy, with brown-blond hair, and   
big grey eyes. "Hello, mister?"  
"Hi, kiddo," he said gently, trying not to give the kid a complex. "How old are you?"  
" Thirteen-and-three-quarters. You're a mutant, right?"  
"Sure am," said Toby, raising an eyebrow. "Bona fide one hundred percent."  
"Well, so'm I," the boy confided. "An' I wanna thank you, mister."  
Toby was dumbfounded. "Me? What'd I do?"  
"Well, when I was ten, you stopped a robot from squishing me," said the boy seriously. "And then when you got on   
TV a while ago, it stopped all the kids at school from beatin' me up."  
Jubilee nudged him in the ribs. He gave her an embarrassed look. "Okay, so sometimes it's not that bad," he   
murmured, while Penny grabbed his hand and kissed the palm exuberantly. "What's your name, kiddo?" he asked   
the kid.  
"Martin," he answered, and as Toby watched, his eyes turned from grey to brown.   
"Well, when I was your age, I was shorter than you, and beaten up pretty much regularly," he said, and Martin's eyes   
opened to saucer-like extents. The entire shop had fallen silent to listen to their conversation.  
"Really?" he whispered.  
"Absolutely. You know the best thing to do, though?" He grinned. "Convince 'em that someone else 'll come and   
beat them up back."  
"Wow. Who'd you say?" the boy asked eagerly.  
"Er… my dad," said Toby apologetically. "Or Wolverine, or Cable, or even…" he tried to stop laughing, "Jubilee."  
"Whoa!"  
"Yeah," said Toby in a conspiratorial tone. "She looked after me at school – she's totally cool, you know. Keeps an   
eye out for me all the time."  
As if on cue, Martin's eyes slid to the cringing Jubilee. "… dude…" he breathed.  
Toby leaned back and folded his arms, as Martin converged upon Jubilee, followed by almost every breathless kid in   
the café. He looked upon his work as Jubilee mouthed, 'help!' – and saw that it was good. Then he met Penance's   
eyes, and they both burst out laughing.  
"That was not nice," Jubilee complained, after they'd finished their ice-creams surrounded by curious children (and   
not a few gawking women). Penance had loved it, sharing her ice-cream with the kids, engaging in a tickle-fest with   
the younger ones, and kissing them exuberantly on the heads when they touched her face or hands.   
"Payback," Toby shrugged. "Now what?"  
"I dunno. Oh, Penny needs some shoes. This way."  
Toby restrained a sigh and followed ruefully. Toby Creed, packhorse for hire, he thought. Penance tilted her head at   
him, taking in his surly expression, before smiling and kissing him decisively once more. His knees buckled, and he   
felt like he was going bright purple.  
"Whoa boy," he managed. Jubilee was looking at him knowingly.  
"What?" he said innocently. She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll bite, what?"  
She simply searched his face another moment, before smirking. "Nothin'."  
He followed her to the shoe-store, internally grumbling the whole way.   
Penance walked sedately by his side until they reached the door, when her mouth opened slightly, and she blinked at   
the shoes lining everything in sight. "Fuck!"  
"Did you teach her to swear?" hissed Toby.  
"I think it was Angelo," Jubilee hissed back.   
"I gotta have some words with him, then." And the mention of Angelo brought back that little problem, and Toby   
decided to drop a hint from a great height. "You probably ought to as well, you know."  
"Huh?"  
He paused, regarded her seriously, then smirked. "Nothin'."  
  
  
Toby didn't know exactly what Jubilee was planning, but he was glad that she had taken the hint about Angelo. She   
was spending far more time with him, their heads together as they plotted something Bobby would no doubt be   
proud of. He decided to loftily ignore it, and concentrate on the training.   
It was going very, very well. Much to Banshee's surprise, Toby found a competent pupil in Jono, who would leap   
out at Toby and engage him in combat hoping to surprise him. An absolutely impossible task, but one which   
Chamber persevered at. Paige, much to her chagrin, wasn't as good at it. As he had said, books wouldn't help her   
very much. However, the various forms into which she husked more than made up for her sparring partner's   
expertise – whether Jubilee, Jono, or Toby.  
Penance and Toby were still training at night. She liked the smack of skin on skin almost as much as she liked   
surprising people. Under no circumstances would she transform into her hard-skinned state, but she was nimble and   
agile enough to keep up – and she was a fast learner. More often than not she would block both arms, give him that   
sultry little smile, and kiss him firmly, before taking advantage of his sudden weakness at the knees by knocking him   
over. It was, he reflected, not very sporting play.  
About a week after their extended (and extended, and extended) shopping trip, Toby found out exactly what Jubes   
and Angelo had been planning. And it was typically devious and sneaky, but a very good idea, nonetheless. They   
proposed (with angelic faces even the devil would trust) that the Gen. X team invite all the various X-Teams over for   
a formal convention and big party afterwards, so they could all see the people they wanted to keep in touch with, and   
catch up on the news. Sean loved the idea immediately, but Emma was suspicious.   
"And why would we want to do that," she asked, folding her arms across her chest and eyeing them.  
"C'mon Frosty," wheedled Jubilee. "I got the idea from comin' back… it was so awesome to be around you guys   
again. And then I thought… wouldn't it be cool if we could all just see each other for two or three days? An' I talked   
to Ang' – he thought it was cool too, 'cos he's promised himself that he has to bash Hank up next time he sees him.   
An' Paige'd just die to see Sam again, and you could show off Penny…"  
That clinched it. The gleam in Emma's eye wasn't the gleam of the milk of human kindness. She found she did want   
to show off Penance to all the X-Teams, and then – why not? – show off her grown-up Generation X as well. "Well,"   
she said slowly, "this will cost a lot of money…"  
Jubilee grinned a little. "I've got Xavier's credit card number…"  
The invitations were sent out all over the world. The date set was the long weekend held in a week, and the school   
was done up grandly, painters and renovators and decorators bustling about like ants. The smell of the paint was   
starting to drive Toby nuts.   
Classrooms were converted into bedrooms, with four beds apiece. Toby helped with clearing out tables and   
blackboards, his voice easily disengaging gravity from around them – and they floated out the door, much to the   
renovator's surprise. Emma oversaw the entire operation like a drill sergeant, 'suggesting' they do things her way.   
She'd never had any qualms about using her telepathy, after all.  
The rec room was deemed to small, and discarded for the patio, which was then covered with glass walls and   
surrounded by tropical plants. Chairs, sofas, soft coloured beanbags and all things comfortable were arranged artfully   
inside, as was a huge flat digital screen against one transparent wall. It looked like a designer house – utterly stylish   
and understated. There was a bar in one corner – because Jubes had said that Logan would go completely flambé if   
there wasn't. Emma had retorted that Logan had better be the one serving then.  
A couple of walls inside were knocked out, and the carpets ripped up. Underneath, the old cedar floorboards were   
polished to a sheen, and the walls repainted. Emma directed where the tables were to go, and where the dancing area   
was. She was also, prudently, not allowing Jubilee to arrange the band.   
The day before the official arrival, everyone was in an absolute panic. The ballroom wasn't finished, the bedrooms   
had no haberdashery, and no-one had thought about where all their guests would shower. Toby suggested the pool   
showers – like enough to the team cubicles back at the mansion in Salem Centre. Emma was dubious – they weren't   
quite classy enough for her. Jubilee had agreed with Toby. Angelo had agreed with Jubilee. Sean had thrown up his   
hands and walked out. Then Jono had suggested that they simply jazz the pool showers up a bit… and off they went   
in a frenzy.   
"I wasn't a plumber in a former life, I can tell you that," groaned Toby as the pipe he was trying to fix bent under his   
strength. "Ah… fuck." He was installing another shower – something he wished he hadn't volunteered for. He'd   
already installed nine, plus a few taps for old fashioned, free-standing baths. A few days work for a human plumber –   
a few hours for a mutant who can manipulate practically any power.  
"Toby! I need yer voice, getcher ass over here!" yelled Jubilee. She was trying to erect a wooden bench against the   
wall of a cubicle – walls which Angelo and Toby had put up a day ago.   
"Whaddaya need me for? Use your fireworks and fuse the metal together!" he yelled back.   
She blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."  
"Obviously."  
"Will you two loco idiots keep it down? This hombre's got his fingers tied in a knot, and he can't figure out how to   
undo them while you keep yammering."  
"I don't know how to yammer," Toby protested.  
I think it's best if you shut the 'ell up, mate. Angelo's a grouchy bastard when he gets tangled.  
"I heard that."  
  
"Hot work!" Penance announced. She was stringing together short phrases now, and did not have to rely entirely   
upon repeating everything someone else said. At the moment she was covered head to toe in grime, as were they all.   
Toby smiled at her. "Yeah. Stand back, now."  
She obediently moved a little back while he lifted his voice, and the metal pipe he had been working on smoothed   
out as he adjusted the air pressure inside it. "Better. What do you think?"  
She nodded, her stunning face serene and happy. "Better." Then she put a hand on his arm. "Takes long times," she   
commented.  
"… I think I can fix that." He wiped a forearm across his eyes, smearing the dirt further across his face, before   
summoning his strength and bending actuality. It was the furthermost extent of his voice's power, so he only did it   
sporadically. But he was tired, and while doing it this way would not save him his strength, it would conserve their   
time. Abruptly the entire shower-room was finished – the taps gleaming, the roomy, luxurious cubicles (which were   
more like small rooms) completed. There were three cubicles with spa baths, six with old-fashioned claw footed   
baths, and nineteen with showers of varying luxuriousness. Toby staggered against the wall as reality exacted its   
price from what he had done out of his hide – an unspecific pain which afflicted him every time he tried something   
like this. But it would die down in a few minutes, and a few minutes was nothing to another half-day of work.  
"Whoa!" exclaimed Jubilee, echoed by Angelo and Paige.  
"Can't you warn someone when you're about to do that?" asked Monet in a daze. Her stylish clothes were as filthy   
as the rest of her.  
"Sorry," Toby croaked.  
and Jono slipped under Toby's arm – he was just tall enough – and led   
the younger mutant outside to collapse near the pool.   
"Yeah," said Jubilee a little worriedly. "He'll snap back in a bit. Toberoonie?"  
"Not now… gotta go to school.. see Wallace…" he mumbled. Jubes covered her smile with her hand.  
"He'll be cool," she assured them. "He's mumbling about his old English teacher. That's a sure sign of a Toby   
weird-out. The other one is his old enemy at school, Luke Lightner."  
"Lightner…? Me an' Tom an' Joe are gonna kick his ass during lunchtime… and Andy owes me so he'll help…"  
"See?"  
The renovations continued long into the night. Emma and Monet ended up having a rousing argument about the style   
of bedsheets used at about seven, in which time they all slipped away for something to eat. Then, after general   
consensus, Toby had to use his voice to finish the ballroom, as the hired help had finally realized that Emma was   
somehow manipulating them to work overtime and not notice. Toby was utterly exhausted by the time he ended up   
in the rec room at three am, curling up with everyone in a big tired heap. Monet yawned in his face as he collapsed   
against the wall, and he wrinkled his nose.  
"Sorry…" she murmured, before dropping off to sleep, her head resting on Paige's back. Paige and Jono were   
snuggled together, as were (and Toby grinned wearily) Jubilee and Angelo, her head against his chest, his arms   
around her waist. Angelo's skin relaxed slightly in his sleep, and Toby saw Jubilee pull restlessly at his arm. It   
stretched easily to accommodate her. Artie and Leech (both who were sporting new bruises from attempting to   
hammer) were nestled into the small of Monet's back, using her as a hot water bottle.   
Penance's eyes blinked at him from near Jubilee. He smiled, before yawning prodigiously. "Nigh… night, Penny."  
"Cold," she chattered, and his brows furrowed in tired thought. But his brain protested and he gave up.  
"Come over here then," he mumbled, and she moved over to where he was lying with his back pressed against the   
wall, next to Monet and behind Artie and Leech. She stepped on something ("!Caramba, chica… that's my   
finger…") before falling down next to him, and regarding him with those unfathomable blue eyes. He held up an   
arm, and she lay down in front of him, bringing his arm over her shoulders.  
It felt so natural that his sleep-befuddled mind didn't worry about it, and he dropped off almost immediately.   
Penance snuggled back into his embrace, her back against his chest. She had a far better idea than him of what was   
going on.   
Sean came across them when his insomnia played up at five that morning. He was walking back to his room from the   
kitchen, holding a glass of milk, when he noted the little partnerships going on all over the place. Well, he told   
himself, trying not to grin like an idiot, let's hope they don't take as long as Paige an' Jono, eh?  
  
  
A section of the grounds had been turned into an impromptu hangar for all the various jets that were to be arriving   
that evening. X-Force arrived first, at about four in the afternoon. As soon as they touched down, Cannonball came   
pelting out of the jet, and zoomed straight for the front door, knocking furiously.  
Sean answered the door, and gave the impatient Sam Guthrie a warm, understanding look. "Paige, lass! Someone t'   
see ye!" he called.  
"Sam!?" came a shriek from upstairs, and Paige almost barreled into her brother as she skidded down them.  
"Ah missed you," he grinned, hugging her tightly.  
"Ah missed you too," she answered, forgetting to hide her southern accent in her excitement. It had been four years   
since she'd seen him, and she was amazed at how much he had changed. He was twenty-six now, and looking more   
the man than the boy he had been while with the X-Men. He looked more confident and comfortable with himself –   
and he looked like he could whip the tarnation out of someone the size of Toby.   
If she marveled at how much he had changed, he was stunned by the maturity she radiated. Of course, she was   
twenty-two… but she looked every inch a tactical leader, and extraordinarily beautiful at the same time. Behind Sam,   
the rest of X-Force trooped up, squinting curiously at the renovated school.  
"Come in, come in," said Paige politely. "Ah… I'll show you to your rooms."  
"Nice save, sis."  
"Glad you liked it."  
The next to arrive were the X-Men at five-thirty. Most of them, anyway. Cable and Wolverine would be along in a   
while, after they stopped fighting. Rogue gave Toby a big hug, and searched his face nervously for the despair she   
was afraid to find. But she didn't find it. Toby seemed to have found a peace here, away from the constant reminders   
of Gabby, and she inwardly sighed in relief.   
"How's Logan and Nate going to get here?" asked Toby.  
Scott shrugged. "They're resourceful. I'm sure they'll think of something."  
Toby started laughing. "You know, maybe you're beginning to unbend a bit," he grinned.  
"You think? Oh, I'm flattered. Anyway, I told them I'd take off without them if they didn't stop fighting."  
"What were they fighting over?"  
"The last cup of Jamaican Blend," said Jean disgustedly. "Honestly…"  
"I do not see the point of this."  
"Aw, c'mon, Bish, have a little fun! Let your hair down…"  
"Someone's already done that for him, I think."  
"That was uncalled for, Robert."  
"Then why are you laughing, Blue?"  
Toby, Monet and Jono led the X-Men to their rooms, and settled in to wait for the various other X-types to arrive.   
Alpha Flight trickled in one by one, as did freelance peoples such as Cecilia Reyes, Marrow and Shadowcat. Much to   
their surprise, Sunfire landed at quarter to six, carrying Yukio and Amiko. Excalibur landed at about quarter past six,   
and a very surly Cable and Wolverine at seven o'clock – how, Toby didn't want to ask. By that time, the whole   
mansion was bustling to get ready for the convention, the women putting on the last touches and the men   
straightening ties. The three of them nodded to each other, and sped off to get dressed. Toby yanked on his new   
tuxedo with the waistcoat and maroon cravat, and ran a brush through his hair, tying it back firmly into its tail at the   
nape of his neck. Then he quickly shined his shoes on the back of his calves, cleaned his teeth, shaved (with a claw –   
razors were redundant for him) and added some cologne. The mix of smells irritated his sensitive nose, and he   
sneezed violently.  
"Tobster? Ya ready?"  
"Coming!" he yelled back, before wiping some of the cologne off with a towel and checking himself in the mirror.   
He looked pretty good, no doubt about it. If there was one thing he and his father looked good in, it was suits. He   
slapped on his top hat, tucked a handkerchief into his breast pocket, and strode from his room.  
Jubilee was waiting for him outside his door, and he stopped in shock when he saw her. Her black hair had been   
twisted up into a sleek knot at the back of her head with some sort of crystal fan, and her earrings glittered. She was   
wearing a deep blue dress with a very low halter-neck and figure-hugging skirt to the floor. There was a split running   
up to her right thigh, and he found himself thinking that if Angelo was game enough to pull it off, he would be one   
lucky hombre. She smiled mischievously at his reaction.   
"I take it you like it then?" she asked archly.  
"Hell, yeah!" he said fervently.  
"Think it's enough to turn a few heads?" She span around a little, and Toby noted the deep plunge at the back.   
Logan's gonna have a cardiac, he thought, but assured her it would. How could it not? She smiled in satisfaction and   
took his arm, approvingly noting the cravat rather than a tie. Together, they walked down to the ballroom, where   
everyone was beginning to gather.  
  
  
came Emma's telepathic call.   
"Sounds like she's arranging a Danger Room practice, doesn't she?" said Bobby easily. He, Hank, Logan and Remy   
were all sharing one of the ex-classrooms now bedrooms.   
"Thought you wouldn't like having her in yer head again," grunted Logan. Bobby's eyes tightened faintly, but he   
shrugged and rummaged in his bag for his cufflinks. He was wearing a beautiful black pinstriped three-piece suit,   
with a deep red tie. But he couldn't find his favourite cufflinks – which was an absolute catastrophe.   
"Robert?"  
"Shh, Blue, I can't find my…"  
"You asked me to hold on to them for you."  
"… Oh."  
Remy ran a comb through his hair and straightened his jacket. He knew he looked amazing, so it was a pointless   
exercise to look in the mirror. Hank and Logan were both in classic tuxedos – with Hank looking more than a little   
uncomfortable – but Remy utterly dripped sensuality in a grey suit with a knee-length coat. The high-collared white   
shirt underneath was untucked, and his black silk tie was loosely arranged. A grey Dick Tracy hat and black silver-  
tipped cane completed the outfit. He looked like either a superstar or a tramp, and he loved it.  
Logan sniffed at the shocking mixture of hair-cream, after-shave, and deodorant, and tried desperately not to sneeze.   
He knew he wasn't up to par with the pretty-boys like the Cajun or Drake, but he looked all right in his tux – a   
throwback from his glittering Madripoor days. And he knew how to wear one easily, which was more than he could   
say for Bobby, who was trying not to grimace in too-tight shoes.   
Hank scratched absently at his side. "I hate wearing cotton over fur," he complained.   
"You'll do," Logan told him, before losing control of his nose and sneezing loudly. Remy snorted, adjusting his hat   
and spinning his cane expertly.  
"So we ready den?"  
"We'd better be, or Frost will have our hides," Bobby muttered. Logan looked at him suspiciously, but let it pass.  
People were milling in the ballroom, exclaiming over the decorations and the lavish tables. Each was swathed in   
snowy white cloth, with silver cutlery and tureens glimmering in soft candlelight. Jean, dressed in burgundy, was   
talking to Rogue (in green, naturally) and Domino, who was wearing the standard, all-purpose, LBD. No-one was   
quite sure if all her guns had been taken away, or if there were one or two hidden somewhere under that slip of black   
satin. Betsy looked ravishing, and she knew it, in an imperial-style ballgown of a shade matching her eyes and hair.   
Meltdown was pretty in pink, and was a little jealous being compared to the absolutely stunning Heather Hudson,   
who was also wearing that colour. Mostly, the men resembled a flock of penguins, except for those like Rictor who   
had worn something a little outrageous. He was in a bright red suit with a black tie, and black-and-white forties   
Italian shoes.  
Emma, wearing white (of course), stood up on the slightly raised dais, and tapped a spoon to her champagne glass.   
Behind her, Sean looked slightly uneasy in his tux, but he was beaming. "You're probably wondering why we're   
holding such a lavish affair," Emma began.   
"Hadn't crossed my mind," murmured Cable.   
"As my bank balance understands, the idea was put together by Jubilee, with help from one Angelo Espinosa. You   
have them to thank. Or blame."  
The applause greeting this statement was deafening. Jubilee stood and waved (Logan choked when he saw her dress)   
while Skin grinned as Jono raised his arm, WWF style. Emma tapped her glass again, and continued.   
"As I am informed, it has a few purposes, not the least of which is to show off."  
Chuckles greeted this statement, while a few of the women (and men) looked affronted.   
"Perhaps the most important of these purposes is to get together, all of us, and have a convivial evening without   
some kind of alien invasion or giant robot attack – which always seems to happen when we finally get to see each   
other, for some reason. There must be some sort of secret society behind it."  
"Hear, hear!"  
"She's right, you know. Last time I saw you, you were on fire."  
"Remember that alien invasion? I swear, those guys were wimps."  
Emma smiled slightly at the reception this comment received. "Another reason is to simply have a bit of glamorous   
fun, something the ladies miss a fair bit, I'll assume."  
Another chorus of cheers, mostly female, answered her.  
"Also, another, slightly more serious reason is to catch up on the news, meaning the various paradoxes and intricate   
plots in which we have all been immured. In other words, rather specialized X-gossip. You know, the weather twenty   
years from now, or the newest Summers family revelation."  
Every Summers in the hall crossed their arms and lifted their chin. "Careful," called Bobby, "there's more of them   
than us, you know!" This resulted in Emma actually laughing at something Bobby had said, and Bobby having the   
end of his tie stuffed into his mouth by a surly X-Man.   
Emma nodded to Jono at the door, and he nodded back and scurried out. "We of Generation X, however, have a   
slightly more selfish reason to celebrate. Most of you remember Penance?"  
A hushed mumble, and some sad nods.   
"Well, about a month and a half ago, young Toby Creed came to stay with us. He has been… instrumental… in   
helping Penance. I think you may find her quite different from before. If you would?"  
Haydn's 'Emperor' string quartet struck up as Jono pushed the door open, and there stood Penance in her beautiful   
black gown, smiling nervously on Toby's arm. Toby doffed his hat at Bobby, winked at Rogue, and led her out onto   
the floor amid a babble of gasps and shouts. Penny shot Jubilee an anxious look, but she calmed down when Jubilee   
gave her a thumbs up back.   
"How on earth…?"  
"Look at her…! She's beautiful!"  
"Mein Gott!"  
"That too!"  
"I think they approve," Toby murmured to her, and she grinned up at him. Her hair was arranged artfully (Monet,   
Jubilee and Paige had worked for hours) in a roll at the back of her head, from which blood-red curls streamed down   
like wavelets to just brush her bare shoulders. She was wearing makeup, too – and had been slightly contemptuous of   
it – and it enhanced her overall exotic individuality. Some of the women were looking a little green as she swept onto   
the dance floor, walking a little towards Sean, before grabbing Toby's hand again. It seemed she didn't like being   
separated from him in front of all these people. Sean nodded to the string quartet, and they launched into a beautiful   
rendition of 'The Blue Danube.'   
"You wish dance?" Penance asked him, her eyes sparkling.  
He adjusted his tie, catching Logan's amused look. Damn him and his enhanced senses too… "Sure, Penny," he   
answered, feeling his ears burn once more. Had she no idea of how beautiful she was? Why was she choosing him?   
She squeezed his hand before slipping his other arm around his waist, and astonishingly, beginning to waltz.  
"Where'd she learn to dance, dude?" asked Jubilee curiously.  
Angelo grinned conspiratorially at Jono. "No idea, chica."  
Around the hall, people were beginning to pair off. Hank was dancing with Cecilia, graceful despite his bulk,   
humming the melody in his resonant bass. Remy bowed politely to Aurora, who giggled and looked cheekily back at   
her brother, who was eyeing Remy appreciatively. Logan was dancing with Yukio, Scott with Jean, Warren with   
Betsy and Kurt with Meggan. Jono bowed slightly to Paige.   
"Why not?" she replied, pushing her (heavy) golden-yellow skirts out of the way and taking his hand. Angelo bit his   
lip sourly.  
Smooth bastard, he thought.  
Jubilee noted his expression, tucked it away for further analysis, and grabbed his hand. "C'mon, amigo. You're never   
going to make the first move, are you?"  
Score one, thought Sean smugly as he watched the flustered Skin and the determined Jubilee. Now to see how score   
two is goin'.  
Toby was utterly dumbfounded – trying desperately not to step on Penance's feet in his surprise. His customary   
elegance seemed to have deserted him, and he was trying very hard not to think. The light caught on the shiny laces   
of Penance's corset, and a veritable sigh of envy rose up when she leaned against his chest. Logan was still regarding   
him with a knowing grin as he talked companionably with Heather, who looked with amusement in their direction   
from time to time.   
"Nice night," Penance commented archly.  
"Yeah." Oh, that was eloquent, Creed. Well done. That's a Pulitzer Prize just there. Wallace'd be proud. "You look   
absolutely incredible, you know."  
"Your fault," she said, raising an eyebrow. "And… thank you."  
She smiled up at him, and suddenly everything was very warm. "Not a problem."  
They danced on in silence for a few moments.  
"You know, I think it should be me thanking you, really."  
"Why? Toby not trapped like I was?"  
"I was trapped… but in a different way. I was trapped in a memory. Thank you," he added sincerely. "I was on the   
way to losing myself."  
"Toby found me," she said softly. "And I found Toby."  
"Yeah. Funny how things seem to work out that way, isn't it?"  
"Funny," she agreed softly. "Love is very funny."  
Sean almost burst with happiness when he saw the look on Toby's face. I'd say score two is comin' along quite   
nicely, he thought smugly, before choking down another whoop. The pair were perfectly suited – both had lived   
through incredible pain and suffering in very short lives, both were indebted to each other, and both needed someone   
who understood. Toby, so recently discarded, and Penance, so long alone, needed to feel needed. Emma caught   
Sean's look of jubilant triumph and followed his gaze.  
"Oh. Well, it's about time he figured it out," she said brusquely, before the 'warm and fuzzies,' as Jubilee called   
them, took over her body too, and she started to smile, before checking herself. "Well? Headmaster Cassidy?"  
"Aye, Headmistress Frost?"  
"Shall we dance?"  
"I canna see a reason not to."  
And they did.  
  
  
The dancing went on for a while. A whole roomful of mutant physiologies can do that. By the time people were   
sitting down and sipping champagne, Tabitha Smith had made a decision.  
It wasn't exactly easy, though. No matter how civilized his behaviour, his appearance was so like his father's that it   
made her balk. She couldn't forget how Sabretooth had betrayed her trust. And yet, she had glimpsed someone   
behind Creed's animal, someone she liked very much, someone she wanted to know was okay.   
She smoothed down her dress, which was a light magnolia pink, lifted her chin, and walked across the room to where   
he sat holding Penance's hand. The red-skinned girl was sipping champagne, evidently liking the taste. Her grip on   
his hand was, to even the most casual of observers, exceedingly proprietary. This one's mine, she seemed to radiate,   
go fishing somewhere else.  
Meltdown got the full brunt of those opaque blue eyes before Toby turned to her and smiled. "Hi there. You must be   
Tabitha. I've never met you – I'm Toby Creed."  
"Anyone with eyes can see you're a Creed," she said archly. Toby nodded in assent, moving over on the plush   
bench.   
"This is Penance. Penny, Tabitha Smith, or Meltdown. She's a friend of Paige's brother."  
Tabitha winced at that reminder.  
Penance's eyes bored through her. "Good time?" she asked.  
"Oh, yeah. This is great. I mean, I can't believe no-one thought of this before," said Tabitha, looking around at the   
laughing crowd. "Dancing, dinner, drinks, a poolside party, even a mini-nightclub. Is it true that Skin's going to DJ?"  
"He wishes," said Toby dryly. "What's on your mind?"  
She started, before realizing that he could detect her anxiety on her scent. "Oh… stupid of me to pass it off as polite   
conversation, huh," she said weakly.  
Penance smiled. "Stupid," she agreed, not quite hiding the tart tone.   
"I was wondering… have you talked to your dad lately?" Tabitha faltered. "I… just want to know how he's doin'."  
"He's pretty much the same," said Toby with a shrug. "I'm not in constant contact with him, after all. He's not the   
kind of dad you can complain to. But I saw him a little over a month ago, and he was fine. He's killing less people   
now, thank christ, since I managed to get him onto decaff."  
"Really?" Tabitha couldn't believe that good news. "I heard he almost killed you…"  
"Other way around, I'm afraid." Toby looked regretful, and Penance squeezed his hand softly. He smiled at her,   
before continuing. "I know you managed to get behind his animal at one point, so I'll tell you. Basically, I let the   
berserker rage run its course. Dad fought me, and I nearly ripped him apart. But he told me that I was exactly where   
he'd started, and if I kept going, I'd end up just like him. He basically told me he was sorry, and that he loved me."   
He gave her a penetrating sapphire look. "I think he's beginning to be ashamed. If you met him now, he might even   
apologize."  
She felt her eyes well up a little, and dashed at them with the back of his hand. "I knew there was someone in there,"   
she said a little breathlessly. "I knew it. He just kept giving in."  
Toby gave her a wry half-grin. "Dad's not a very strong person – personality wise, that is. He's always given in, even   
when there was no desire to any more. He said that I'd taught him how to fight back. One day, he and I are going to   
have a serious talk about that."  
"D'you think…?"  
"Yeah, and I'll ask if he wants to see you," he said gently, and Meltdown broke out into a beaming smile.   
"Dinner!" exclaimed Jubilee suddenly, as the hired waiters set down plates which steamed and lifted tureen lids.   
"C'mon, Penny, you hungry? I'll see you round, Tabitha?"  
"Call me Tab. And sure. I bags to be on your side at the water fight in the pool later," she said with a particularly   
vindictive grin. "I owe 'Berto one."  
"Deal. Now let's eat… oh, look, Pen', pork in apple sauce!"  
Amazingly, dinner went without a single hitch, assassination attempt or mind-controlling incident, unless you   
counted Nate and Betsy using their telekinesis to pass the dishes. The quartet continued to play, though their fingers   
were beginning to ache, and a light chatter filled the air. Emma gave Toby a significant look, before he was elbowed   
in the ribs by Jubilee on his left. He'd finished first as per usual, and wasn't exactly looking forward to performing   
something he'd agreed to when tired and half-awake.   
Do I really have to? he thought plaintively.  
Emma snapped back.   
Well… if it was for Penny…  
I thought you might see things her way.  
Toby pushed his chair back and stood slowly, before running the back of his hand along Penance's cheek. "Then this   
is for you," he told her quietly, and she slowly smiled, her eyes brilliant in the candlelight.  
He walked across to the string quartet, nodded to them, and they stopped, regarding him curiously. The chatter died   
down a bit as several people turned to look at him standing on the dais. He fidgeted a little under their scrutiny,   
feeling absurdly small. This is ridiculous. I'm seven feet tall! With that bolstering thought, he closed his eyes and   
began to sing.  
For the initial theme he chose a light baritone, which was clear and smooth as it filled the warm night air. The   
melody was bittersweet and melancholy and utterly heartbreaking, a plaintive minor air spun out of nothingness.   
After the first two phrases, he added a tenor counterpoint, which soared over the baritone poignantly, before   
introducing another baritone a minor third below. The three voices chased each other in dizzying swirls, the chordal   
structure growing more elaborate as he added a bass, then another tenor, then two more basses, all singing different   
harmonies in thought-defying complexity. They whispered, then rang out like a great bell, then washed over his rapt   
audience like waves. As a teenager, he had perfected this art before the powers of his voices came into play. This   
was the easiest and most beautiful of his mutations, and one which, no matter how he was to use his voices, always   
managed to reduce at least half his listeners to tears.   
After the fugue, he returned to a rendition of the theme, the basses sonorous below the tenors and baritones. And   
then, a soprano joined in, and he almost stopped singing in shock. It was Penance, her voice sweet and as untaught as   
bird-song, rising effortlessly into the upper ranges of the coloratura. Her face was radiant as she sang a descant which   
sent shivers down the spine, standing beside her chair. Her eyes on him, she began to walk towards him, her hand   
stretched out. He couldn't break her gaze, nor would he have.  
As their hands touched, their voices died away, and the whole room erupted with cheers. Anyone within four miles   
would have thought an explosion had taken place, so huge was the sound. People were standing on chairs, their   
hands moving furiously in applause, others were calling for more, most were surreptitiously wiping their eyes or   
sniffling.   
And had anyone stayed within four miles, they would have thought that first sound was nothing compared to the   
second, when Toby finally kissed Penance back.  
An' score two, thought Sean, before leaping into the air and whooping.  
  
  
It was two am, and the party wasn't nearly over yet.  
They'd moved out to the redecorated patio, and the doors were thrown wide open onto the poolside garden. A   
general consensus reached, everyone had (some with great relief) stripped out of their formal clothes and pulled on   
their swimwear. Penance had caused another bout of male speechlessness by appearing in her new black bikini, but   
Toby had loomed up behind her, given them all a very Creed look, and taken her hand.  
He was amazed at himself. It was barely over a month since he had been devastated at the loss of Gabby – and he   
was prepared to admit that he was falling in love with Penance. Her incomplete speech masked a very devious mind,   
and although she was still slightly nervous of everything, she was utterly fearless when he was around – as if she   
knew that he wouldn't ever let her get hurt. Now, for instance, she was smoothly swimming through the water, while   
Toby sat with Hank and Logan at the tables around the pool. She knew he was watching, so she was fine.   
Her method of swimming was a little stranger than even a mutant was used to. She had watched Jean perform a   
breaststroke, and had become very excited. She was obviously exceedingly flexible, and as she tried to mimic Jean's   
movements, her long legs unfolded past the splits. A few eyes boggled at that; her limbs sliding effortlessly through   
the water until her feet were level with her waist – then they slammed together, and she would hurtle forwards faster   
than a bullet from the force.   
"Toby?"  
"Hmm?"  
"You didn't hear a word I said, did you." It was not a question, but Logan looked more amused than pissed off. He   
held out a can, which Toby took gratefully.  
"Sorry."  
"Be not contrite, my young friend. I'm simply glad to see you so cheerful, especially considering the circumstances   
under which you left," said Hank. "I take it then that you had no inkling of young miss Penance's designs upon   
you?"  
"Well… a little," said Toby, his eyes sliding to Logan's. "It's kind of hard to explain if you don't have the nose for   
it."  
"One o' those, hey?" Logan grinned. Toby nodded. He was beginning to wonder if you could cook eggs on those   
ears of his. "Always keep ya guessin'."  
"I don't feel like I should be this happy so soon after…" Toby faltered. He had no wish to remind himself of Gabby.   
Hank gave him an understanding look. "Toby, we all liked Gabrielle very much. We watched her grow up with you.   
But she changed towards the end there – she became someone we didn't know at all. Maybe it was her introduction   
to politics… only a telepath would know. Leaving you was a reaction – and it was not your fault nor hers. But when   
she betrayed you to the media like that…" Hank's blue eyes glittered with remembered pain. "You shouldn't feel   
guilty about what you have with Penance. In a way, you met at the perfect time to help each other."  
"Listen to the man, tiger," said Logan gruffly. "He makes sense. Me, I been through more heartache than anyone on   
the team, an' most of it's come about because I spent too much time worryin' about what might have been."  
There was a pause.   
"Saw you managed to catch yourself a Doctor Reyes, Hank," said Toby, trying to change the subject.   
Hank grinned. "Indeed. And no more shall be said on that subject at this juncture. Nice try, though."  
"Arrgh. Sometimes I wish you hadn't helped me with my homework," Toby growled, and Logan chuckled.  
"Doubt yer marks would've been so good. Now spill. How'd you do it?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Penance. How'd you do it?"  
Oh! Well – I used my voices, naturally. She was locked inside her skin like that…"  
"Not that. How'd you get such a good-lookin' one?" Hank guffawed at that statement, while Logan's eyes twinkled.   
Toby snorted as he pulled the ring on the can. "Who can talk, Mr. Japanese Catwalk Assassin there?"  
"Huh? Oh, Yukio! Yeah, ain't she great?" Logan sounded a little proud.   
"And Heather Hudson was all over you in that tux," added Hank. "By the way, we fought your father again last   
week. He said to say hi."  
Toby hid his grin. "Thanks. How's he doin'?"  
"Losin' his touch," said Logan, exaggeratedly shaking his head. "Didn't even make it to my stomach wall this time."  
"Ah… this is where I close my ears, right?" said Hank delicately.  
"Oh, please, Doctor McCoy – you're the one who taught me anatomy," said Toby in disgust. "Did he say what he's   
up to?"  
"Somethin' to do with the Hellfire Club. I think he's got a bet with himself – how many members of the inner circle   
he can take down in such amount o' time, etc." Logan leaned back. "He'll be glad to know yer happy. He seemed   
worried about you."  
"Amazing," said Hank, rubbing at his neck.  
"What is?" asked Toby and Logan simultaneously.  
"Logan's actually concerned about Sabretooth. Only a little – but he still is. It's amazing."  
"Toby!"  
"Sarah?" he asked, as the Morlock girl pelted out of the shower-rooms wearing nothing but a g-string. "Um, Sam   
won't be real impressed…"  
"You idiot, it's Sam that needs thumping!" she yelled back, but everyone could see her grinning like a full moon. "I   
told him, I've got this big friend who can beat the shit outta anyone, and he'd cancel the pope for me… but he   
wouldn't listen!"  
"What's he done?"  
"… when I remember, I'll let you know!"  
A burst of laughter greeted this, and then Sam's anguished voice came floating out of the showers. "Sarah?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Can Ah have mah clothes back now?"  
"Men!" she threw her hands in the air and stomped back into the showers.  
"Well, she grew up fast, didn't she?" commented Bobby, which set them all laughing.   
"She certainly has not stopped baiting the poor boy," murmured Storm.   
Toby grinned at her. "Did you really expect that to stop? Hey!" For Jubilee had popped a few fireworks under the   
water, sending a torrent splashing all over Hank and he. Logan growled as the cigar he was holding was drenched.   
"Foul play, darlin'," he advised her through clenched teeth.  
"You are in deep shit," Angelo muttered to her.  
"And it was your idea… so you're stickin' around," she hissed back, hanging onto his arm, before she squealed and   
tried to get away from the three men who were standing slowly and grinning vindictively.  
"Gentles all," said Hank in a wicked tone, "I would like to propose that most stress-relieving of activities – the bio-  
organically propelled displacement of still dihydrogen oxide."  
"…Meaning?"  
"WATER FIGHT!"  
Rogue had just enough time to say, "Aw, shoot!" before the pool was swamped with various mutants, all of whom   
were enthusiastically dunking and splashing each other. Bobby and Ororo had the edge of course, but it wasn't much   
of one in such tight quarters. Toby waded through the bodies, taking advantage of his greater mass and strength. He   
and Cable circled each other by mutual consent – the pool couldn't take that much. By the time he reached Jubilee   
(who was the most vocal of the participants) she had gathered Angelo, Hank, Bobby, Roberto DaCosta and the   
bemused Shatterstar in the classic 'last stand' formation, a small circle facing outward to the foe, namely him.   
"All right team," she shouted over the uproar, eyeing him cheekily. "This is our biggest challenge yet."  
"No shit," said Sunspot under his breath, looking at Toby apprehensively.  
"No mercy! Rarrgh!" Jubilee sent another paf to explode under Toby's feet, and he growled good-naturedly before   
ducking under the water and grabbing her legs. She managed to holler, "then I am defeated with honour, my   
comrades!" before being dunked soundly. She surfaced spluttering, and glared at him under a tangle of wet black   
hair.   
"Serves you right," he said, crossing his arms.  
"Dudes," pleaded Jubilee to her fellow 'last-standers'.   
"Man, that is what they had in mind when they coined, 'immovable object.' You gotta be loco!" said Angelo,   
laughing and pointing to Toby.   
Much to their surprise, Toby then fell over. He was more surprised than them – after all, he didn't get surprised – but   
he could dimly see through the swirling water a pair of red feet swimming away. He grinned and stood up.  
"Excuse me?" he said politely. "There's a certain red-skinned, apple munching, sneaky little tripwire I have to go   
catch."  
"Permission granted," laughed Bobby. "You better put in some effort, or she'll be way disappointed with you."  
"I plan to." And Toby winked at Jubes and Angelo, before ducking under the water again and agilely swimming   
away, his huge feet and hands displacing the water with ease.  
"I don't understand how one so tall can be so…" began Shatterstar.  
"I know," said Sunspot gloomily. "Lucky, lucky bastard, si?"  
"You mean my august presence has taught you nothing? Have at ye!" roared Hank, and off they went again.  
Toby found it very hard to keep track of Penance, weaving around the thrashing bodies and peering through the   
white water. More often than not he got a foot in the face – and he would stop swimming and give the owner of the   
foot a dunking, just to show them what he thought of it. The one exception, of course, was Cable, who just gave him   
a dangerous grin and sent, No-one was quite sure how a fight between   
Tiger and Cable would end up, and neither of them were too eager to find out. Nathan had been his teacher for six   
years, as had Logan, and while he had fought them in practice scenarios and the like, they had always held back. This   
is known as prudence in the world of the ridiculously super-powered.  
Speaking of the ridiculously super-powered…  
Penance was talking earnestly to Betsy, who looked back at Toby with an arch little smile. Toby gulped, then berated   
himself for gulping. Betsy was another of his combat tutors; between her and Logan they had imparted to him the   
entire lexicon of the eastern martial arts. But Toby could never achieve her effortless mastery, though he had the   
better instincts. The martial arts, especially blade-fighting, was a life-long study. Toby could best her two out of   
three in hand-to-hand, but no-one living in the world was her equal with a katana.   
It was very, very hard to overestimate Elisabeth Braddock.  
Penance slid away from her, and Betsy nodded to her before lazily swimming towards Toby. Toby gave Penance a   
curious look. She gave him a smug grin.  
"What are you up to?" he asked suspiciously.  
"Moi? Up to? You wound me to the quick," said Betsy dramatically, laying a hand over her cleavage as if in pain.   
"I would, but you'd kick my ass," Toby said with a ready smile. "Now what?"  
"Oh, fine. Little Miss Redskin there has something to tell you, but she doesn't want to say it in front of all these   
bloody people. She'll meet you behind the showers in ten."  
That was it? Toby raised an eyebrow. "Seems fairly innocuous to me."  
"Oh, I didn't mention what you'd be doing in those ten," she said slowly, and he abruptly found himself caught in a   
telekinetic grip, being lifted above the pool. Amused stares went from him to the beaming Betsy, who waved.   
"Payback, lads!" she yelled, as Toby rose higher and higher, struggling, the water streaming away from him. A   
couple of cheers and a few whoops greeted this, and Toby snarled.  
"I know that was you, Drake! You better be prepared to pay for that loud mouth of yours!" All of a sudden his board   
shorts were freezing cold, and his eyes boggled. "My mistake," he croaked.  
A few appreciative male groans answered him. "Y'all have mah sympathy, Toby!" called Sam.  
"It's easy to be sympathetic when yours aren't the balls being frozen off!" Toby chattered back, trying not to let his   
fangs cut his lips to ribbons. A few men winced.  
Betsy put a contemplative finger on her mouth in exaggerated thought. "Oh, poor boy. Well, if that's the problem   
there, then…"  
RIP! The frozen shorts ripped like an old cardboard box, and Toby was left squirming absolutely starkers hanging   
about fifteen meters above the pool.  
"Oh my…"  
"Somethin' to live up to, boys?"  
"Penance is one lucky girl…"  
The men were the ones writhing in embarrassment now. Toby, teeth still clenched together, grated out, "Now that   
you've all had an eyeful?"  
"Hey, we're not complaining…"  
"Jean-Paul!"  
Betsy was eyeing Warren speculatively. Toby clenched his fists. "Betsy!"  
"Hmm? Oh, right. Terribly sorry. Bombs away then," she said absently, and he started to fall towards the pool.  
"Oh fuck."  
  
  
Half an hour later, he felt he'd salvaged enough of his self-respect to face Penance. He'd borrowed an old pair of   
trunks from Cable (trying to find their size was a nightmare) and laughed sheepishly along with the rest. He'd landed   
smack in the pool, his chin rebounding off the edge with a crack. It had hurt like hell, repairing a shattered jaw, not to   
mention some measure of dignity. The amused looks he was receiving were a little embarrassing, especially the way   
Monet would gape at him, then turn bright red. He'd escaped as politely as he could.   
Slipping behind the shower cubicles, he called softly, "Penny?"  
"Here. What made you so long?"  
He felt his ears sizzling. "Erm… sorry?"   
"Late. I've been waiting of twenty minutes." She slid out from the shadows, her colour almost making her   
undetectable to all except one of Toby's peculiar talents. She tilted her head, her wet hair curling about one shoulder.  
"Sorry. There was… a minor mishap," he said delicately, praying that she'd let the matter drop.  
"I know," she said airily, giving him a wicked little look. "Was watching."  
"Oh… shit."  
She took his hand, a finger travelling over one claw gently. "Don't worry."  
He let out his breath slowly. "I am… SO embarrassed."  
"Needn't be ashamed. I think other men will be," she giggled. "And other women too. Joke of it, and no-one take   
fun, see?"  
He gave her a wry half-smile. "I see."  
She gave him an impulsive kiss, her eyes dancing. "Smarter than I look, huh?"  
"I always knew you were smart," he protested, curling an arm about her and sitting down. "What was it you wanted   
to tell me?"  
She suddenly lost her teasing mood, becoming very serious. "I must tell you of life, before we start this. You should   
know."  
He studied her face before nodding reluctantly. He had some inkling of how much this recantation would hurt her,   
but as she said, it was best for him to know. And she should know, too. Perhaps he could arrange her to meet his   
father…. "I understand."  
"No-one else know," she whispered. "I am not knowing how to tell. You could," she lifted her head and looked into   
his eyes. Hers were brimming, and the naked emotion on her face, a face so long expressionless, was heartbreaking.   
"I would be honoured to tell your story, Penance," he murmured, taking her shoulders. "And I should tell you mine."  
She nodded. "Me first."  
"Okay."  
She snuggled into his arms, and he leaned back against the wall. Her voice was very quiet, a sweet whisper in the   
dark.   
"My name is Yvette Trajkovic. I was born in Yugoslavia, to Momcilo and Verica Trajkovic. I had an older brother,   
called Dejan. I am nineteen. I was captured… when eleven… by brother of Monet. Marius St. Croix. Emplate." The   
word was a low hiss. She was shaking. "I… was very young… did not understand what was happening. Emplate   
triggered my powers to feed. He fed until I could not turn back."  
She was shaking violently now.  
"Then… he captured Monet. He tried to feed from her. But she escaped by putting herself in with me. In my body.   
Our minds… together. In my body.  
"Then Gateway… helped me. Took us here. We were scared, but it was safe here. Monet was confused… because   
she was two. The other M was her twin sisters, taking her place. They could take any form and that power by…   
joining?" She looked up at him to see if he understood. He nodded. "When Emplate came back… made M-Plate…   
twins were revealed, and we were separated. Monet was replaced by twins in me. She was free, but I was trapped,   
behind the twins, inside my body. The twins had control of me.   
"Big explosion. The twins were forced out. And I was alone in my head. But I was stuck inside, and I seemed so   
empty. I had been with people inside for so long, so long. I was lonely again, and I could not talk to anyone. Monet   
used to talk to me sometimes, and Claudette, one of the twins, was my friend. She was much younger, and…   
autistic? I think it is. I was all alone. For seven years. I would sculpt my brother, my father, my mother. I wanted to   
see them so badly… tried to tell them. Would write 'home' on trees.  
"Then you came."  
Toby stared helplessly as she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you want to find your family?"  
When she looked up at him, her eyes were brilliant with tears. "Yes. I miss Dejan… so much."  
"Then we'll find them," he said finally. She nodded, wiping at her eyes.  
"Your turn."  
"Oh shit, where to begin," he muttered, still stunned after the recantation of misery he'd just heard. "No-one is sure   
who my mother is, and it's pretty damn obvious who my father is…"  
  
  
"One… two… three!"  
Eleven heads tipped back and eleven glasses drained. By general protest, Logan and Toby weren't allowed to   
participate in the drinking game. So they were the bartenders, commentators and the judges, not to mention the   
occasional medic as a combatant was rushed from the field to go to the Danger toilet.   
"Hah!" Jubilee slammed her shot down and glared blearily at them. "I win again," she announced, daring them to   
contradict her.   
"Where the hell did she learn to drink like that?" grumbled Bobby.  
"Just cos you're a lightweight…!"  
"Am not!"  
"I must contradict, Robert, you are. The quintessential Cadbury kid."   
"Huh?"  
"Two and half glasses and you're one happy lad."  
"Shut up and pour."  
Toby raised an eyebrow and set to work on the line of glasses. "How about schnapps this time, guys?"  
"Mmm…" said Jubilee enthusiastically. Cable shrugged, his golden eye flashing erratically.   
"If it's brainkiller, sounds good."  
"Wha…?"  
"Don't worry, Bobby." Toby poured the schnapps and regarded the severely depleted drinks cabinet. "And one for   
me, too," he decided.  
"Won't do any good," said Hank smugly. His fur was exceeding rumpled.  
"I like the taste," Toby shrugged. "Yvette?"  
Penance tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "You have some, and I will decide whether I like it," she said finally.  
"Yvette?" mouthed Angelo. Paige shrugged, her arm firmly around Jono.  
"I don't get it…" thunk! Bobby's head slammed against the bar, and his mouth fell open a little. Logan laughed.  
"Looks like the popsicle is out fer the count. I'll get him to a bed, guys."  
"Don' bother, mon ami," said Remy softly, a haunted look in his eyes as he took Bobby's arm and pulled it over his   
shoulder. "Gambit was t'inkin' o' callin' it a night anyway."  
"Suit yerself, Cajun." But Logan and Toby had noted the scent, and shared a look. Finally. Maybe the Cajun would   
stop the erratic dance between himself and Drake by taking some decisive action. Action that Bobby had yearned for   
ever since Remy had broken up with Rogue.  
"Game on!" warbled Sam, and Logan grinned, holding up a finger.  
"One… two… three!"  
"Hah!" Cable slammed his glass down and directed a thousand-kilowatt glower in Jubilee's general vicinity. "Beat   
you!"  
Scott put his head in his hands. "Honey?" asked Jean worriedly.  
"Remind me never to get him drunk again," he grated out from under his fingers.  
Toby took a sip of his schooner-sized schnapps and grinned. This had been one great idea, if only to see Scott   
Summers pissed off, at his son no less. Priceless.  
"Well?" asked Penance.  
"Oh. S'cuse me," he added to the bar occupants, who were grinning at him in various stages of inebriated fuzziness.   
He leaned over and kissed her.  
His next thought was how far does she intend to go with this?  
Then her arms curled up around his neck and she attacked his mouth with added gusto. Must really like schnapps   
then.  
The whoops were what brought him back to the land of the growing progressively drunker, and he gave them a   
foolish smile before giving Penance a last soft kiss. "Would you like a glass then?"  
She tilted her head and licked her lips. "Mmm."  
"Is that a yes 'mm' or a no 'mm'?"  
She grinned a little. "Yes is good. I like this snaps. I like it better when you kiss me, though," she added silkily, and   
he blushed scarlet.   
"Ah… right. Stop it," he hissed at the giggling observers.   
"But it's… so… cute!" giggled Jubilee. He growled and stalked back to the bar.  
"Just for that, the next one's whiskey."  
"Finally!" said Cable beatifically, eliciting another groan from Scott. Jubilee pulled a face.  
"I hate whiskey."  
"Then don't call me cute." He poured out the shots and Logan, still trying not to laugh, called the numbers.  
"In honour of not bein' cute then, one.. two… three!"  
"Ugh!" spat Jubilee after she downed the shot. "Yeagh!"   
"Serves you right," Toby sniffed, handing Penny her schnapps.   
  
  
Dear Dad,  
Things are looking up. Compared to the last time you saw me, anyway. I s'pose you heard about the X-Party. Well,   
you remember Penance? I'm with her now. I fixed her mutation, so that anyone could touch her, and she can speak   
now. She's sweet, and funny, and beautiful… I think I'm happy. You never know, it could be mind-control, but hell,   
I'm enjoying the ride.  
I spoke to Meltdown at the party. She's worried about you. Yes, even after what you did to her. Amazing. Must be   
that nonexistent Creed charm Jubilee keeps teasing me about. Anyway, she wants to see you, and talk to you. I think   
it might be a good idea. After all, I can't be your only friend all the time. I'm your brat. Different rules apply. Let me   
know what you think next time you ring.  
I got your message. Yeah, I'll accept, I think. I've never been on TV before – voluntarily, that is. This'll be painful,   
but I need some closure with Gabby. After the interview, I'm going to Yugoslavia with Yvette – Penance. We're   
trying to find her family. You can get in touch with me over there in case you kill a democrat or something, and need   
some advice – like blame the republicans. No, not really. Just fucking with your head, as usual.  
By the way, I also saw most of the old X-Factor. Wildchild almost bit my hand off in greeting, before he realized I   
wasn't you. Did he always do that? I wasn't sure if he was doing that in some kind of masochistic friendship or if he   
really wanted to kick the shit out of me. Anyway, he said to pass on his greetings, but he was grinning when he said   
it, so I'm not sure if he even meant it. Your friends are weird.  
Okay, hypocrisy meter going haywire. Sorry.  
I can't think of anything else to write. Drop me a line sometime, and remember the decaff.   
Toby. 


End file.
